


The Boy Who Murdered Love

by twobirds



Category: American Horror Story
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-09
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 06:40:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 32,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twobirds/pseuds/twobirds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tate's first love, Blaire, returns over a decade after their relationship's untimely finish. Desperate for a family, Blaire stops at nothing to achieve a normal life. Along the way, she discovers everything may not be what it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I began and finished this story last year when AHS first came out. I'm going to post it as it was written months ago.

It had been a long time since Blaire had seen the house. It was still captivating. The colossal structure loomed with beauty. Everything about the house took Blaire's breath away. She gravitated towards the lot. Each step filled her with empty stomach with butterflies.

The butterflies dissipated when she peered in the window. It was different. The house wasn't the same. It wasn't the house she knew. The furniture was different. The walls were different. It was different.

Disheartened, she returned to the sidewalk. She'd travelled so far to see the house… to see him. Hoisting her battered duffle bag higher up on her shoulder, she started walking. She didn't get far before she felt a pull back towards the house. It called her name.

She turned. Her eyes scanned the neighborhood. The pull shifted from the house, her house, to the one next to it. It was a quaint yellow building. In a trance she stalked to the front porch. She knocked three times on the door.

She half expected the home to be empty, but the door swung open. She was met with a surprise.

"Well, well, well, Miss Stafford. What an unexpected appearance."

"Constance, you whore," Blaire strained.

Constance looked the same as she did over a decade ago. Her face had aged, though it still was strikingly beautiful. Her golden hair was immaculately styled and paired with a flattering outfit.

"You're still a lady, I see," Constance smiled. "Come in."

Not having any other options, Blaire agreed. She followed Constance into the house. It was filled with furniture and photos she recognized. They comforted her. Constance led her to the kitchen and ordered her to sit. Like an obedient drone, Blaire dropped her bag and flopped onto a chair. Constance leaned over the counter. She poured coffee into two cups and then sat across from Blaire.

"So, darling," Constance drawled. "What's it been? 10 years? 15 years?"

"Almost 18," Blaire said flatly.

Constance didn't dance around her words, "You had a chance to leave, and you took it. Why'd you come back?"

"You know why," Blaire exhaled.

Constance threw her head back and let out a laugh, "You're a little too late for that one, sweetheart. Our little Tate has a new love."

"W-what?" Blaire stuttered. "You're lying to me. Tate can't…"

"He moved on," Constance cackled. "With the little slut next door."

"He told me he'd wait for me," Blaire muttered as she cast her eyes to the table.

"You know how delicate he is. He is still stuck in the past, you know."

"He still doesn't remember?"

Constance shook her head, "The family that just moved in next door, the father is a therapist. Tate is seeing him. I was hoping it'd help him remember... but instead it's just drove him further away."

"Wait, the family next door? You said that's where Tate's new… friend lives. Is she human?"

"I'm afraid so."

Blaire rubbed her neck, stunned. She'd traveled so far to come back to him. He was her life. Everything she had done, it was for him.

A look of clarity and discovery fell onto Constance's face. She leaned forward in her seat and said, "You know… you and I, we aren't so different. We can work together."

"What do you mean?" Blaire questioned.

"I want the house and you want him. We can work together. If you steal Tate away from that little bitch, Violet, she'll hate it there. She'll force her family to leave."

Blaire weighed her limited options. Constance's plan seemed to be the only logical one. Blaire had nothing to lose. She threw all her cards on the table.

With a heavy sigh, Blaire agreed, "Okay."

"Perfect. You can stay in the study for now. Before you get cozy, you might want to go next door and see the disgusting display of puppy love. They've been out back all morning."

Blaire set the cup down on the table and left the house without saying a word. She let herself through the gate, something she had done countless times before, and slowly stalked to the back yard. When she spotted Tate and the girl, she hid behind a tall pillar.

Tate. It had been so long since she'd seen him, but he still stirred the same feelings in her as he did the first time she saw him. He'd always cast a spell over her. Blaire's feelings towards Tate were only masked by the jealousy. The girl, Constance called her Violet, was stunning. She had an innocent air about her, though she looked as if she wanted to be tough.

Blaire couldn't hide anymore. She revealed herself. She approached the porch ledge where she sat with Tate countless times before. It took a few seconds for the two to realize she was there. When Tate looked up, his face fell into confusion.

"Blaire," He whispered loud enough for her to hear.

"Hi, Tate," Blaire mocked. She had rehearsed what she would say to him, but she forgot it all when he said her name. "I've missed you."

Violet lifted herself away from Tate and asked with confusion, "Who are you?"

Both Tate and Blaire ignored her. Tate stood to face Blaire.

"You left," Tate swallowed. "I thought you left."

Blaire reached up and placed a hand gently on his face, "I did. I went away for a while, but I'm back now. I'm back for good."

"Tate?" Violet exclaimed angrily. "Tate, tell me what's going on."

Finally realizing she was there, Tate looked over. His black eyes flickered and his face trembled. He looked from Violet to Blaire before storming away. He left the two girls alone in shock. It wasn't what Blaire had envisioned, and Violet… Violet was hurt.

She channeled that hurt into anger. She gave Blaire a hard push. Taken off guard, she stumbled backwards.

"Who do you think you are?" Violet spat.

Blaire composed herself, "Who do you think you are? Do you think you actually know Tate? You don't know anything about him. You aren't special. We had an untouchable love- a love that ended in death on both sides… a modern day Romeo and Juliet."

She walked away. She didn't want to deal with Violet anymore. Nothing had happened as she planned.

Violet had another plan, though. She stomped after Blaire, pulling her around.

"What do you mean ended in death on both sides?" She questioned. "You're a ghost too?"

Blaire pressed her lips, "We're all ghosts."

This time when she walked away, Violet didn't come after her.


	2. Chapter 2

Blaire stood on her tip toes and looked at herself in the mirror. She searched through her duffle bag of old clothes to find something perfect. She finally settled on a short black dress with a grungy floral print. She threw on a cardigan nearly 3 times her size, a pair of dark tights, and a pair of dirty oxford shoes. She'd spent an hour perfecting her hair, taming the mess and making it look presentable.

Addy had helped her in the kitchen baking zucchini bread. She'd even made sure Addy didn't spit in the food.

Everything needed to be perfect.

Blaire took a deep breath and hustled down the stairs. She swooped up the wrapped zucchini bread she'd hid out of Addy's reach. She left the jail of a house she'd been cooped up in for the past few days and gracefully walked over to the house. She knocked a few times on the door, then stood and waited.

When the door swung open, Blaire was face to face with who she assumed to be Mrs. Harmon. The day Blaire first arrived, Constance spent nearly all evening telling Blaire how much she despised the rats in the Harmon family. Of course, Blaire didn't believe her. Constance's love for exaggeration and gossip wasn't new to Blaire.

Mrs. Harmon was beautiful, even as she stood cautiously in the frame.

"Hello," Blaire offered first, with a smile. "I'm Blaire Stafford. I just moved in next door. I thought I'd come by and introduce myself."

"Next door?" Mrs. Harmon questioned. "I didn't know there were any houses for sale…"

"There aren't," Blaire clarified. "I'm staying with Constance until I can find a place of my own. She's an old family friend."

"Oh. I see."

Blaire held up the plate, "I made you some zucchini bread. It's all organic, I hope you don't mind."

"Thank you," Mrs. Harmon smiled. "I'm Vivian, by the way. Would you like to come in?"

She accepted with a nod and followed Vivian through the house. She walked in a quiet stupor, amazed by the gravity the house had on her after all these years. She was still mesmerized by every inch of every room. When they got to the kitchen, Vivian offered Blaire a seat.

"Thank you for inviting me in," Blaire said. "I've been trapped inside Constance's house. Spending more than three minutes with that woman makes me crazy, so you could only imagine how I've felt lately."

Vivian chuckled. She was slicing up the bread. "Oh, I know. Want a piece?" Blaire nodded. "So, do your parents not live around here?"

"My parents are dead."

"Oh," Vivian frowned. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Blaire shrugged it off. "It happened a long time ago. My Mom… she shot herself when I was 8. My Dad didn't take it very well. He started drinking. His liver couldn't handle it. Just a few years ago, he passed away."

Her father didn't die while she was alive, but she couldn't tell Mrs. Harmon that.

"I'm so sorry, Blaire," Vivian said genuinely. "That must've been really hard for you."

"We weren't very close- my father and I. I was actually travelling when I heard the news he passed away. I was in Italy, actually."

"You don't look that old. You couldn't have travelled alone."

"My aunt went with me," Blaire lied. "My family is originally from Florida. She really wanted me to move down there with her and her husband, but I really wanted to come back to California."

Vivian nodded and leaned against the counter, "I hope this isn't too forward of me, but you seem like a wonderful girl. I cringe at the thought of you spending all day with Constance. Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"I'd love to," Blaire smiled. "The less time I spend with Constance, the better."

Vivian and Blaire spent the better part of the afternoon together. It was the bonding time Vivian never got with Violet. Vivian coaxed information out of Blaire, and for the most part, Blaire was honest. She went into the house thinking Vivian was a bitch. Ten minutes with her reassured her that she shouldn't trust Constance's judgment.

As the day progressed and both women's stomachs grumbled, they headed off to the organic market. When they arrived back at the house, Violet was in the kitchen with her head hidden in the refrigerator.

Vivian set down the bags on the counter, "Violet, I want you to meet someone."

Violet turned. She tried to hide her surprise as Vivian introduced Blaire.

"I've heard so much about you," Blaire smiled as she gave Violet a lifeless stare.

"Yeah. Okay."

"Violet, be nice! Blaire is a guest in our house and our new neighbor."

"Not my problem," Violet grunted. She rolled her eyes one last time before stalking out of the room. The sound of her heavy boots hitting the stairs drifted through the house.

"I'm sorry about that," Vivian apologized. "She is a little moody."

"I was her age not too long ago," Blaire shrugged. "I know what it feels like. I think Violet and I have a lot in common, actually. I'd love to get to know her a little more."

"Good luck with that," Vivian chuckled.

"Where's your bathroom at?" Blaire asked, even though she knew the answer.

Vivian gave her simple directions, and she excused herself. She walked up the stairs and passed the bathroom. She checked the bedrooms until there was only one left. She opened the door without knocking to see Violet lying on the floor. The Smiths played in the background.

"What the hell are you doing in my room?" Violet cursed, jumping up to her feet and stomping over to Blaire.

Without blinking, Blaire grabbed her by her shirt and pushed her up against the wall.

"Listen here, you little slut. You may hate your shitty life, but I hate it even more. I'm not going to let you get in the way of my plans. If you ever act like that around me again, I will make your life miserable. More miserable than it already is."

Blaire gave Violet a hard punch to the stomach making Violet let out an unwanted cough of air. She was left speechless as Blaire dropped her and calmly walked back down the stairs to resume cooking with Vivian.


	3. Chapter 3

Blaire jiggled the doorknob. She remembered the exact way to move it to make it open. It swung open with ease, shedding a dusty light into the dark basement. She closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a sigh of relief. After a few seconds she ventured out into the basement.

"Tate?" She called out, peeking through each little room.

She had to repeat herself a few times before he finally appeared, walking out from a shadow.

"What are you doing here?" He strained weakly as he walked over to her.

She reached up and stroked his face, "I wanted to see you. Do you know how hard it is being so close to you?"

"Violet told me you're living with my mother," Tate said as he pulled her hand away.

"It's horrible."

"I know."

Blaire smiled lightly, "I'm doing it for us."

"There is no us, Blaire," Tate said as he swallowed hard.

Frustrated and discouraged by his harsh words, Blaire took a few steps back. She pointed to the empty corner of the room. Tate followed her finger.

"Do you remember the night my dad beat me for the first time and I ran here? I ran to you, Tate. Do you remember how we stayed down her all night so your mom wouldn't hear us? So she wouldn't hear me crying? Do you remember how I had to hold you back because you wanted to murder my father? Huh? Do you remember how you kissed me and told me everything would be okay someday? That we'd have a house of our own and babies and maybe a dog?"

Tate was silent. His sullen gaze was fixed on the ground. It was fixed in the corner Blaire had pointed at, as if he was replaying the night on a reel in his mind.

"I remember," He finally muttered.

Blaire's lips were quivering. This was the first time she'd felt anything other than hate in years. She was full of raw emotions as she rushed him again, grabbing his arms.

"I know I left you, Tate. I know. It was the biggest mistake of my life. I was just so sad and angry at the world. The only thing keeping me here was you. When we had that fight, I thought you were going to leave me."

"You wanted to leave first."

"Yeah," She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Tate was struggling to grasp the conversation that had just taken place. He was just as confused about her death as he was about his. When he reached back to remember her absence, all he could conjure up was her leaving. He remembered the fight. Then she was gone.

He was fighting with himself. He loved Violet. She was his savior. She helped him see the good in the world. But Blaire… he would be nothing without her. She had been his lifeline for so many years. She was his first everything. She was his everything, even after she left him for so long.

He bounced back and forth between the two. No matter how much he loved either girl, the other taunted him in the back of his mind, peaking over his shoulder.

"Tate?" Blaire whispered, bringing him out of his stupor.

"I'm sorry," He said hoarsely. "I can't do this to Violet."

Blaire felt something well up behind her eyes that she hadn't felt in nearly two decades. Tears. She took a step back and looked at Tate with disbelief.

"Just think about us, sweetheart. Think of all the memories we have together-"

"Leave!" Tate barked. "Just get out!"

As much as Blaire wanted to stay and fight him, she didn't want him to see her cry. It had happened too many times before. She turned and raced out of the basement, slamming the door behind her. She rushed across the yard to Constance's, then through the house and up the stairs to the study. She pressed her face into the chair's cushion and let out a whopping sob.

"There's no use in crying over a piece of spoiled meat."

Constance's words shattered Blaire's eardrums. Embarrassed, she sobered up. She popped upright and rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands.

"Don't talk about him like that."

"I gave birth to him, so shouldn't I be able to talk about him however I please?" Constance smiled.

"No," Blaire snapped. "And wipe damn look off your face. Wasn't me getting Tate back a part of your master plan? Without me, you have no way to the house."

Constance's face fell. Blaire was right. She needed that sorry excuse for a woman to make Tate fall back in love with her. Blaire and Tate were her only direct connection to the house, and without them, she had nothing.

Blaire's face stung as Constance's heavy hand vibrated across her cheek. Taken aback, Blaire was too stunned to stay anything. Constance had plenty of words however.

"If you don't get into that house soon," She threatened. "You're gone."


	4. Chapter 4

Blaire spent three weeks slaving away at Constance's plan. She spent her days at the house with Vivien. As much as she wanted to hate her for Constance, she couldn't. Vivien was like a mother she never really had. Blaire wouldn't admit it to anyone, but she would do anything for Vivien. Blaire even dealt with Ben's crazy spells and Moira's disapproving demeanor. Violet kept her distance. She shot Blaire constant looks of disgust, but she never said anything more than a simple greeting. Vivian desperately wanted Blaire to be a role model for Violet, but neither of the girls were too eager to spend time together. And Tate… he stayed away as far as Blaire could tell. Every day she entered the house she was hopeful that she'd see him, but she left without a single encounter.

She was doing it all for him, and he was ignoring her. But she wouldn't give up.

At night Blaire would put up with Constance's nagging and the sounds of her lovemaking. As much as she enjoyed Addy's company, her constant questions and presence grew to irritate Blaire. Blaire locked herself in the study with a laptop she had stolen from a house a few blocks down. She read everything. She studied classical music so Vivien would like her more. She read up on new medical discoveries so Ben would enjoy her company.

After narrowly escaping Addy in the hall one morning, Blaire hustled down the stairs to make an escape to the Harmon house. She wasn't expecting Constance to be waiting for her in the kitchen.

"Isn't it a little early for you, Constance?" Blaire joked. "I mean, you were up all night humping that innocent man. He hasn't realized how much of a soulless cunt you are yet? No? I'm sure he will soon and leave you like all the others."

"Shut your mouth," Constance hissed, raising a long finger at Blaire. "Listen here, you good for nothing bitch, if you don't find me a way into that house by the end of today I will tie you to my bed and gut you like a pig."

"Have you forgotten that I'm already dead?" Blaire laughed. "Your age must be getting to you."

"Get out!" Constance screamed, lunging in Blaire's direction.

She dodged Constance's attack and ran out of the house. She was shoeless and didn't have any of her supplies for the day with Vivien. She didn't want Vivien to see her in her disheveled state, but she didn't want to go back inside. Defeated, she traveled the brief distance to the neighboring house. Much to Blaire's surprise, Vivien was already kneeling in the garden. When she heard Blaire approach, she popped her head up from the flowers.

"Blaire! Are you ready for our gardening lesson?" She smiled excitedly. Her face fell when she glanced at Blaire's pensive face she stood up. "What's wrong?"

Blaire looked down at her bare feet, "Constance."

"Did she hurt you?" Vivien questioned as she rushed to Blaire's side.

"Almost," Blaire admitted. There was something about Vivien that allowed her to let her guard down. "I can handle myself. I've done it for a long, long time. I'm just tired of living in a setting where I'm afraid of the people I live with."

"You shouldn't have to, Blaire. You're a wonderful girl. You deserve more."

"Yeah right," Blaire sniffled.

"I'm serious! You need to leave Constance's as fast as you can," Vivien urged.

"I'm broke. I can't find a job. I have nowhere to go."

Vivien chewed on her bottom lip for a second before her eyes lit up, "Blaire! You can move in with us. I haven't started on the baby's nursery yet. You can stay there until you find a place."

"I can't take a room away from your baby," Blaire said with a smile. "Thank you though."

"I'm begging you," Vivien grasped Blaire's cold hands. "Come live with us."

"I can't take the baby's room," Blaire said again. "But if you really want me to move in, I can stay in the attic."

"The attic is kind of… gross," Vivien frowned.

"It's the only way I'll stay," She cracked a small smile. "Besides, it's better than the basement."

"Well… if you say so…"

Vivien's frown gradually faded into a smile as Blaire spoke. She was happy for the first time in a long time. There was something about Blaire that made her feel alive again. It was her second chance at raising a daughter, as much as she didn't want to admit it.

She hugged Blaire. It was the first time Blaire had been touched in a long time. She was taken off guard by the warmth. It felt so strange against her skin. She lightened up and fell into the embrace, hugging Vivien back.

"Thank you so much, Viv," Blaire muttered against her neck. "I promise to help you out as much as I can. I'll find a job and pay rent. I'll do anything you need me to do."

Vivien gave a small, mother-like chuckle, "The only thing I need you to go is go get your things from Constance's house. Instead of gardening, you and I can spruce up the attic. We'll make it feel just like home."

Vivien sent Blaire off with a warm smile. Blaire entered the hell of a home she'd been staying at for the past few weeks, hoping to avoid Constance. She crept up to the study successfully.

She didn't have a lot of worldly possessions, but what she did fit in her old duffle bag. She had the same clothes for over a decade. There was an aged photo of her with her parents when she was an infant… before everything turned to shit. She kept another photo tucked away. It was of her and Tate. It was what kept her going for all the years she was away. The photo was hidden between the pages of a long letter from Tate. His words were so poetic and full of love.

"What are you doing?"

Blaire peeked over her shoulder. Addy stood in the doorway trying to see what Blaire was doing. She shoved the last of her dirty clothes into the bag and stood up to face the child-like woman.

"Addy," Blaire whispered. She hadn't really thought of that side of the decision. It pained her to leave the poor girl with her monster mother. "I'm leaving."

"Where are you going?"

Blaire rubbed her neck, "I'm going to a new home. Okay? I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry about anything. I would leave if I could."

"Listen," Blaire rested a hand on Addy's shoulder. She leaned in and whispered, "I may not be here with you, but if you need me, just close your eyes real hard and think of me. Say my name a few times and I'll be there."

"Promise?" Addy murmured weakly.

"I promise," Blaire smiled.

They said their goodbyes, and Blaire scurried down the stairs. Her exit, however, wasn't as Constance free as her entrance was.

"Where do you think you're going?" Constance drawled, raising an eyebrow.

"Vivien invited me to move in, and I accepted," Blaire said stiffly.

Constance's face burst with happiness, "Dear lord, I never thought it was possible for you to get in! I thought I was going to have to kill you again. Maybe I was wrong about you, Miss Stafford."

"No," Blaire shook her head. "I didn't get in for you. I'm done with your stupid ass plan. I'm not sabotaging anything. I'm done. I'm leaving you and your stupid house and your stupid plan."

"It looks like you grew a pair of balls," Constance mused.

"I've always had them. I just had to find them again."

Constance let out a wild bark of laughter that nearly had her doubled over. She clutched at her side. Blaire had had enough. She dropped her bag and grabbed the old woman by the shoulders. She leaned in close and growled,

"You're such a washed up piece of shit. I finally have a chance to be happy. I'm going to have a family again. If you ruin anything- ANYTHING- I will slit your throat. I will rip your damn heart out. You may see yourself as a murder, but all I see is a lonely hag who has nothing better to do with her time than to tear apart people's lives. I'm going to say this once… leave me alone."

She spit in Constance's face. It was something she'd wanted to do for over two decades. It was a hard release of emotions. She was full of adrenaline. Constance was in shock. Blaire grabbed her bag with a smile on her face and left. As she walked to the house, the house that had beckoned her for years, she felt as if she was shedding a metaphorical layer and replacing it with a new one. She was ready for her new life.


	5. Chapter 5

Upon Blaire's arrival back at the house, Vivien took her to a string of stores. She insisted on buying Blaire whatever she wanted for the attic. At the first stop, a department store, they picked up a set of white curtains and bedding to match. Vivien had brought an old mattress from Boston that was already in the attic. Blaire, not one for big stores, decided to introduce Vivien to her favorite vintage stores in LA. There, they picked up trinkets, paintings, a lamp, and even a few dresses for Blaire.

The two burst into the kitchen with arms full of bags. They were laughing about a woman they'd spotted on the street who was wearing an outrageous headpiece. Ben was waiting, sipping on coffee.

"What is all this?" He asked staring at Vivien.

She pressed her tongue to her cheek, "We were just buying things for the attic."

"Vivien," Blaire muttered, looking at her friend. "You didn't ask him?"

"Ask me what?" Ben pressed.

"Blaire is moving in to the attic," Vivien sighed. "Okay?"

"Viv!" He exclaimed, his eyes growing wide.

Blaire looked helpless caught up in the mess of their confusion. If Ben wanted her to leave, she would have nowhere to go. She'd be on the streets of LA once again. Not wanting to show her worry, she interrupted.

"I'm going to take all of this stuff upstairs, okay?" She said softly.

She took the bags from Vivien's arms and teetered away. She struggled to get up the flight of stairs, and ended up dropping a bag when she pulled the attic ladder down. She hoisted it up higher on her arm and climbed the old, creaking stairs. She put the bags down on the ground and called out,

"Beau? Beauregard? Are you up here?"

An old red ball rolled towards her. She rolled it back.

"It's okay, Beau. Come here."

A second later the disfigured ghost appeared. Even after all those years past, he held his childlike innocence. He approached Blaire with recognition.

"Oh, Beau. It's been forever, hasn't it?" She sighed as she rubbed his arm.

He let out a grunt of agreement, and then went back to rolling his ball in her direction.

"Stop it. I have to talk to you about something. Okay?" When he focused his attention on her, she continued. "I'm going to be moving up here with you. Do you understand?"

He smiled and let out a yelp of glee. Blaire shushed him with a smile.

"I know, I know. We need to set some rules, though. I need my alone time. I will play with you as much as I can, though."

Blaire heard the sound of someone approaching from down the hall. She grabbed Beau's arm again and looked at him straight on,

"I need you to go to the basement for a while. Go visit with Tate. He would love to play with you."

The attic stairs began to creak under the pressure of Vivien's pregnant body. Beauregard looked in the direction of the stairs and faded away in silence. By the time Vivien reached the top step, he was gone.

"Is everything okay?" Blaire asked, clearing her throat.

Vivien nodded, "Ben was just… surprised. He didn't like you living at Constance's either. I explained to him your situation. He's fine with it."

Blaire let out a long sigh, "Thank goodness."

"He actually hopes you'll help with Violet."

"I'll try. I'll do whatever I can," Blaire lied.

Vivien grinned and spread her arms open, "I told you it isn't much up here."

"All it needs is some TLC."

The attic really wasn't that bad. It just needed some polishing. Constance had added dry wall years ago for Beau. Over the years it acquired floral wallpaper that faded and withered away. Blaire loved the old feel to it, and insisted it remained. Together, the two women tidied up the mess that remained from the Harmon's move. They stacked the boxes intended for storage away and out of sight. Vivien swept the floor and polished the window while Blaire struggled to lay the queen sized bed out on its frame. Vivien dug out the corresponding side tables for the bed. They placed all of the items they'd bought around the room and dressed the bed. While Blaire hung her clothes in make shift closet, Vivien draped the curtains.

Through their idle chit chat about how the room was coming together, Blaire heard the stairs creak.

"What the hell is going on up here?"

Both Vivien and Blaire turned. Violet was standing at the top of the stairs. Her face was twisted in confusion and anger.

"Honey," Vivien said as she took steps to her child. "I've asked Blaire to move in with us."

"What? No! This is bullshit!" Violet cursed loudly.

"Don't talk to your Mom like that," Blaire said, almost in a growl. She'd grown very defensive over Vivien.

"She can't live here," Violet pleaded. "Mom, I hate her."

"Violet!" Vivien exclaimed.

"It's okay, Viv," Blaire interrupted with a half-smile. "She doesn't have to like me."

"It isn't a matter of if she likes you or not. You're a guest here. She shouldn't talk about you like that. It's just rude. And I don't see any reason why she should hate you."

"Teenagers don't need a reason to do anything," Blaire said, her eyes fixated on Violet.

Violet let out an exasperated sigh and stormed down the stairs. A door slammed seconds later. Vivien looked at Blaire with a hopeless, sorry expression. Blaire shrugged and simply said,

"She'll come around. They always do."


	6. Chapter 6

Blaire drifted awake. She let out a groan and shielded her eyes from the sunlight that drifted through the curtains. She sat up, feeling a pair of eyes on her. She didn't look to see who was there, if it was anyone. Over the week she'd been in the house she'd gotten used to feeling eyes on her. She stood up and stretched, then padded over to the closet and pulled out an oversized Nirvana t-shirt. She slipped it over her naked body. It danced to her knees, so she didn't feel like it was necessary to put on pants.

She descended down both flights of stairs. The house was still and empty around her. It breathed an air of death and life. Though it seemed like no one was awake, there was a brewed pot of coffee waiting on the counter. Blaire grabbed a cup from the cabinet and poured herself a cup.

"You don't like cream?"

Startled, Blaire jumped backwards, turning to face the person. A swoosh of the hot liquid splashed onto her shirt and seeped through to her skin. It was Mr. Harmon. Ben gave an apologetic smile,

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

Blaire set the cup on the counter and reached for a rag, "It's okay. I don't scare easily, so bravo."

"I'll make sure to record this," He laughed as he filled his cup.

Blaire finished dabbing the cloth to her shirt and picked up her cup again. She took a long sip, "I'm serious."

They lingered in the kitchen in a comfortable silence. Something in the bottom of Blaire's dead heart ached in jealousy. She was jealous of Violet. How could someone with two loving parents treat them the way she did? Blaire would've killed for parents like Vivien and Ben. There is something worse than death, though, and Violet would be there soon if Blaire had anything to say about it. And she did.

"Blaire?"

"Yes?" Blaire sighed, coming out of her own mind.

"You look like something is troubling you," Ben proposed. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Blaire smiled, "I'm fine- still a little sleepy."

"You know," Ben said seriously, sitting his cup down on the island. "I couldn't help but notice your arms."

Out of old habit, she reached to cover her wrists. But she wasn't wearing long sleeves. She cast her eyes to the floor, ashamed. For the first time in her pathetic excuse of a life or an afterlife she felt ashamed.

"It's okay to talk about it," Ben said softly, reaching out to touch Blaire's arm.

"I was young," Blaire defended. "Young and stupid. My mother was dead and my father was an abusive drunk. I was alone. It was hard… look at me rambling. The point is I've stopped. That phase in my life is over."

"They look pretty deep," He commented.

Blaire turned away, "I'm fine. I don't need you to doctor me, Ben."

"If you ever want to talk about it-"

"I know where your office is," Blaire said over her shoulder.

She passed through the kitchen with all the intentions of heading back up to her room. However, her eyes fell on the door to the basement. She gravitated to the steps, but kept herself back.

"Tate," She called down into the darkness. "Come up to my room. I need to speak to you… I need to see you."

She closed the door and sauntered up both flights of stairs, feeling the set of eyes on her yet again. She pulled up the ladder and secured it tight.

"What do you want?"

Blaire smiled at the warmth of his voice… how his words crackled with tenderness. She turned to face him.

"I've lived here for a week, and I haven't seen you once. You've been avoiding me."

"I've been avoiding you," he repeated, his eyes fixated on her. "I can't hurt Violet."

"Violet this! Violet that!" Blaire exclaimed, throwing her arms up. She rushed forward and grabbed him by the arms. "God damn it, Tate. I'm here. I'm back."

"You hurt me," He whispered.

"I'm sorry," Blaire muttered against his cheek. "I'm so sorry. How many times do I have to say it? A hundred times? A thousand? Will you ever forgive me?"

"Blaire," Tate strained.

She dropped her hands from his arms to the waistband of his dirty jeans. She pressed harder into him,

"She will never love you the way I love you, Tate. She will never understand you the way I understand you. She will never touch you the way I touch you. She will never kiss you the way I kiss you. She will never fuck you the way I fuck you. I bet she doesn't make you cum quite like I do. I know you've been watching me. I feel your eyes on me."

Tate stopped her. It startled Blaire. She hadn't expected him to respond. She almost accepted the fact that he no longer loved her. His fingers lingered on hers for a second before they reached up and grabbed her face. He caressed her cheeks, drawing tender circles on her pale skin. The air was thick with hungry anticipation.

Tate pressed his lips to hers. They'd been separated for so long that the feeling of his lips against hers was something un-Earthly. They both were hungry for more, but Tate pulled away. He stared into Blaire's eyes, his hands still around her face.

"I forgive you," He whispered. "I've missed you so much, Bug."

She let out a soft laugh, amazed that he still remembered his pet name for her, "Say it again."

"Bug," He kissed her again for a few seconds. "My little Bug."

Blaire tilted her head to look up at the undead man she loved, "You're going to leave Violet, right? You and I are going to be together forever now, Tate."

His face fell, "I-I can't leave her, Blaire."

Blaire's face twisted into pain as she pushed him away from her, "What are you talking about? You just said you missed me!"

"Shhh!" He calmed her, reaching out. "I can't leave her right now. You know how hard it is to be alone when your family is fucked up. I'm just trying to make sure she is okay."

"You gave me a taste of what I needed- what I've craved- and now you're going?"

"No!" He exclaimed. "Listen to me Blaire. I've got to slowly leave her or else it's going to be bad for everyone. I could never love anyone more than I love you, Bug. We both know that. I promise I'll be with you for good soon. I've just got to make sure everything turns out okay."

"When did you turn into a hero?" Blaire scowled.

"The day you left," Tate confessed.

He closed the space between them. She didn't struggle. He kissed her forehead and whispered into her hair,

"I'm not going to let you leave me again."


	7. Chapter 7

You dumb slut," Blaire sneered as she barged into Violet's room. "What are you doing?"

Violet hurried to shield her laptop, "What do you want?"

"What are you doing?" Blaire repeated. "What are you trying to hide from me?"

"Nothing," Violet yelled. "Just get out."

As much as Violet tried to shield the screen, Blaire saw through her fingers. Though she could only make out certain words, they were all that she needed. Violet was researching the Westfield High murders. A second tab revealed Blaire's name. Violet had Googled Blaire.

"Don't read those," Blaire whispered, surprised at her tone of voice.

Violet too was surprised, "I already did. Tate… Tate killed those people? And you? I mean- he didn't kill you, but you… you killed yourself."

Blaire sighed and sat down on Violet's bed. She hated the girl. That doesn't mean that she wasn't entitled to know the story.

"Not exactly. I'm going to tell you this story. I'm going to tell you the truth, and I don't want you to repeat it to anyone, okay? Tate isn't ready to know what happened.

It all started back in 1990. I was 14, and Tate was 13. That's when we met. Back in the 90s, kids started the whole angst thing a lot sooner. I was listening to The Smiths at the park, thoroughly hating my life. My mom was dead, and my dad was a drunk. Then I saw him. He was just sitting there, staring at his arm. I got really pissed off, you know, that area of the park was mine. So I walked over to him ready to tell him to leave when I noticed he was looking at his fresh wounds. He had to have just cut himself. There were more scars, too. Instead of yelling at him, I sat down, shared my music, and let him talk to me. What an innocent beginning, right?"

Blaire smiled lightly as she remembered the day. After a brief pause, she continued.

"We were both so fragile and in need of another person to cling to, to have compassion for. I know a lot of people say young love isn't real, especially when you are as young as we were, but they're wrong. Tate and I were a part of each other. We could be together for hours- days even, and not get tired of each other's company. It was pure at first; we spent all of our time talking and occasionally stealing kisses. Then it progressed to more aggressive kisses and then making love. We were each other's first everything… we were each other's last everything.

Everything changed my senior year. Looking back, I've got to say we were a little crazy. I got into so many fights defending Tate, as did he for me. There was a lot of tension between us between our home lives and all the chaos at school. It was a week before homecoming. Tate and I were in my room. I'd begged him to go with me, pleaded with him, and finally he had said yes.

I was so excited to show him my dress. He didn't like it, though. He hated my dress. He said it was too revealing, and that I looked like a cocksucker. The dress was gorgeous; black lace with long sleeves. Not revealing at all. I got so angry at him. It was our first fight in four years. Everything else going on in our lives bubbled up and burst out. We not only verbally fought, but we physically fought. My pretty dress got ruined.

He finally got so fed up that he stormed out. He left me on my bedroom floor bloody and bruised in a torn dress. I was broken. The only thing keeping me alive had just left. I wasn't thinking clearly. I grabbed my razor and sliced my arm so deep there was no possible way I could survive. I don't remember a lot about that moment, but I remember feeling so lost. I honestly felt like I had no purpose in life.

Maybe that's why I stayed. It's been almost 20 years and I still don't know why I'm stuck here. Anyway… I'm sure you're tired of hearing about my untimely demise. I'm sure you want to know more about Tate and Westfield.

He was really upset when he found out I was dead. The day after my funeral he did it- I mean, that's when he went to the school and killed those people. I didn't know he would stay here, so I left. I didn't want to stick around this town and be reminded of what I gave up. But he never left.

And that's it. That's the story."

Violet was shocked into silence. Her arms were draped into her lap, and her face held a glossy expression. Blaire too was silent. She hadn't spoke about what really happened between them, about their love, ever. Everything inside her tingled with fear, sadness, helplessness, and passion.

"That's it?" Violet muttered. "That can't just be it. Tate wouldn't do that."

"I'd tell you that you could choose to not believe me, but you saw the articles."

"I just don't understand," Violet professed.

Blaire had reached her limit for the day. She lifted herself off the bed and approached the girl. She wanted to hit her. She wanted to pound her face into the ground. Instead she calmly spoke,

"You don't understand because you don't know Tate. You know nothing about him. You don't know what he is capable of. You think you love him, don't you? Do you think you're going to have some Romeo & Juliet shit? He's dead, Violet, and you don't know anything about his life."

She walked out of the room, slamming the door hard behind her. The house was empty. Vivian was at the doctors, and Ben, having been kicked out of the house earlier that week, was at a hotel. Blaire could easily kill Violet. She could make it look like an accident. Or a suicide. Or a break in gone wrong. The possibilities ran through her head so fast, she almost didn't realize Tate was approaching her.

His smile faded when he picked up on her fuming anger. He grabbed her arms and pulled her into his chest.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," She grunted. "I'm just a little flustered."

Tate knew not to press further into the situation. Blaire talked about things when she wanted to, and right now, she defiantly didn't want to. Even though he didn't know what was going on, why she was so upset, he wanted to make her feel better. He hated seeing her anything but happy.

"Do you want to go lie down? We can listen to Nirvana and cuddle, just like we used to."

Blaire gave a half-hearted smile, "Okay."

Tate kissed her forehead, "I was supposed to hang out with Violet… Let me go tell her I have to leave."

Blaire obliged and let him go. She watched as trudged up the stairs and disappeared down the hall. She stood still for a second, then climbed the stairs herself, planning on going up to the room before Tate came out of Violet's room. As she reached the top step, however, she heard a frightened cry leak through Violet's open door. A moment later, Tate was struggling, dragging Violet's limp body behind him. He pulled her into the bathroom.

Blaire followed. She peeked into the bathroom. Tate lay in the large, clawed tub. Violet was in his lap, unconscious. Tate fumbled with the knobs and eventually turned the water on. It cascaded down on the two bodies. Blaire could tell through the water that Tate was weeping. She couldn't stand seeing his arms around Violet, his frantic shakes trying to get her to wake up. It was like a train wreck. She couldn't watch anymore. She pressed her back on the wall between Violet's room and the bathroom, sliding down.

She was sick to her stomach. The feeling only got worse when she heard Tate's panicked voice drift out into the hallway. He uttered words she never thought he'd say to anyone but her.

"I love you," He cried. "I love you, Violet. Wake up."

Blaire couldn't take anymore. Her body was wrecked with emotions- she felt like she was being torn apart. She stumbled to her feet and ran down the hall. She ran down the stairs and out of the house. She ran and ran and ran. Houses turned into stores and traffic picked up. She ran further. She ran until she couldn't run anymore. She ended up on the side of the highway, gasping for air.

Tate had broken her heart once before, and it had ended her life. Look at him still breaking her heart in the afterlife. Only this time she couldn't escape. She collapsed on the side of the road with all the intentions of lying there until the end of time. The buzz of the constant car whizzing by was like a lullaby that soothed her aching heart.

She listened to the vehicles pass by and tried to envision who was in the car. What was going in their life? Did they feel empty inside, like she did? Or were they happy? Her musings were interrupted by the hum of a stopping car. A second later, a gravelly voice said,

"What are you doing out here by yourself, you sweet young thing?"

Blaire lifted her head to see a man, probably in his late 20s, staring down at her. He was fairly attractive, even though he looked like a yuppie. He wore a tailored suit and shiny shoes, his blonde hair slicked back into a wave. His blue eyes twinkled. Blaire couldn't help but notice the expensive looking car parked only a few feet away.

"Um," She muttered. "I'm lost."

He smiled and offered a hand, "Here. Get up off that dirt. It'll ruin your pretty dress. Come on- let me offer you a ride."

Blaire knew the risks of getting into cars with strangers. Her mother had lectured her on it before she died. She had watched her fair share of crime shows and horror movies, too. She knew how these things turned out. She simply did not care anymore. So she smiled back and took his hand. She was already dead, what's the worse this fellow could do?


	8. Chapter 8

The stranger introduced himself as Grant Reynolds. Blaire got into his shiny new car. It was a company car, he admitted, but he would soon have one of his own. Though he had offered her a ride, he never asked where she was going. In fact, they were driving away from Los Angeles. Blaire didn't really care. And when Grant reached over and put a hand high up on her thigh, she didn't do anything but cock her head in his direction and smile.

That is probably how they ended up in a shady, pay by the hour motel off some random exit. That is how Blaire ended up miles away from Tate, staring at her naked body in a dusty mirror. Grant called for her from the room. She let out a deep breath and left the bathroom.

Though she was self-conscious, she played a vixen. In all honesty, Blaire had never been with anyone but Tate. It'd been nearly two decades since she'd been with a man. Now look at her. Her mother would be proud. She dare not think about her mother. Especially as she seductively stripped the stranger.

As she mounted him, she pictured Tate under her. She only let out a few moans of pleasure, whispering Tate's name. He was probably with Violet right now. She squeezed her eyes tight, trying to make the image go away. He was probably holding her, stroking her hair, telling her that he loved her. He fucking loved her!

Blaire stopped and raised her arms, pressing them on Grant's chest. She pushed him away from her. He nearly fell backwards off the bed.

"What the hell are you doing, bitch?" He cursed with anger.

Blaire scrambled to the bathroom, Grant calling out after her. She pounded her fist against the dirty mirror, sending it flying into a thousand pieces. She grabbed the sharpest piece she could find and stalked back into the room.

"I'm not paying you to have a mental fucking breakdown. I'm paying you to suck my cock."

With the piece of glass concealed in her palm, she put on a sweet smile and walked back over to him, "Sorry."

"Yeah, you're going to be even sorrier if you don't spread your legs right now."

"Will I?" Blaire questioned.

Swiftly, she thrust the shard of glass into his stomach. He out out a surprised gasp of pain as the blood poured out onto his chest. Blaire had missed the contrast of the stunningly dark liquid with pale human flesh. A rush of adrenaline shot through Blaire's body as she continued to stab the naked stranger.

She was no longer killing Grant Reynolds, the yuppie business man who thought she was a prostitute. She was gutting Violet Harmon, the bitch who managed to weasel her way into Blaire's life and steal Tate. When Blaire struck the body for the last time, she only saw red. The saturated sheets dripped onto the floor, pooling in a crimson painting. The body was almost unrecognizable. Blaire was almost unrecognizable. Her body was coated in a layer of thick liquid. She stopped and tripped backwards, stumbling over her own feet. The blood on the ground seeped through her toes. It felt so… good.

Blaire hustled to the bathroom, tip-toeing around the broken glass. Her hands slipped on the faucet in the shower. A few spurts of water dripped from the head, and then it came down in a low pressure waterfall. Blaire watched the dirty water turn red and spiral down the drain. She kept her eyes on her toes until the water ran clear.

She stepped out and quickly dried herself, then picked her clothes up off the ground. She got dressed in a hurry. When she walked back out into the bedroom, the body was still there. She had almost forgotten, as silly as it sounds. Hastily, Blaire searched for his wallet. She grabbed the few hundred dollar bills from the pocket.

Just off of the exit, Blaire remembered seeing a bus stop. It couldn't be more than a few hundred feet up the road. She exited the motel and followed her instincts, trekking up the road. She was right. There was a bus stop. She waited with a few others, not sure where the bus was even going. She really didn't care.

The bus route winded around the exit and headed into the city of Corona. Blaire had no idea where Corona was or how far it was from Los Angeles. She got off at the first stop wasn't in a shitty neighborhood. There was a payphone on the corner of the street. She shot in a few quarters and dialed one of the only numbers she knew by heart.

"Hello?"

"Ben," She breathed into the phone. "I need help."

"Blaire?" Ben questioned. "What's wrong? Where are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I took the bus earlier and got really confused. I ended up on the wrong track and we were on the highway and I'm in some place called Corona right now."

"That's like an hour away!"

"I'm sorry," She said, her voice cracking. "I'm really sorry, Ben. I just don't know how to get back and it's getting late…"

"Look around, Blaire. Are there any street signs?"

"Uh… it's the corner of 6th street and South Lincoln."

There was a shuffling and then Ben said, "Alright. Go somewhere where you'll be safe and watch out for me. I'll be there in an hour or so."

"Thank you so much Ben," Blaire whispered.

She hung up the phone and turned around. The street was cluttered with different shops and restaurants. She chose a random one and entered, ordering just a coffee and a piece of pumpkin bread. Her eyes stayed focused out the window, waiting for Ben's black SUV. An hour passed, and Ben still wasn't there. At almost the two hour mark, Blaire began to worry. Ben eventually pulled up on the curb. He parked his car and searched for Blaire. She exited the restaurant and ran to his side. He pulled her into a caring hug.

"What are you doing out here, Blaire?" Ben muttered.

"I took the wrong bus, I told you. I wasn't paying attention. I'm sorry."

"Come on. Let's get you home."

Much to Blaire's surprise, Ben didn't ask questions. She had mentally prepared herself for an onslaught. Blaire never had a real father, and though technically she was twenty years his senior, she looked to him for support. She thanked him a thousand more times when he dropped her off in front of the dark house.

"Let's not tell Viv about this," He proposed. "She doesn't need to worry about this on top of everything else."

Blaire nodded in agreement and crept into the house. Up one flight of stairs and then another. She locked the stairs tight behind her and stripped out of her clothes. All she wanted to do was lie in her bed and sleep forever.

She climbed into the bed and pulled the white comforter up around her neck.

"Where the hell have you been?"

The words were warm on her neck. She kept her eyes closed as she shrugged the body away from her.

"Out. I figured you would be too busy taking care of your whore to notice."

The bed squeaked as Tate sat up. He sighed , "Stop it. I couldn't let her die, Blaire."

"I thought we agreed to get rid of her."

"Not kill her," Tate stressed. "I can't kill her."

"Because you love her?" Blaire mumbled loudly. "You fucking love her and you don't want her to leave you."

"I didn't think you heard that," Tate trailed off.

"You basically screamed it," Blaire stressed, throwing herself into a sitting position. She stared at Tate with angry eyes. "You were begging me to hear it."

"I'm sorry."

"Sometimes sorry doesn't cut it," Blaire weakly let out as she lay back down. "I don't want to be your woman on the side, okay?"

Tate extended back down on the bed, wrapping his arms around Blaire's torso. She didn't fight him off. His arm squeezed tighter and he pulled her closer into his body. His lips touched her neck gently.

"Just give it a little more time, okay?"

Blaire relaxed into his grip, "Okay."


	9. Chapter 9

A sliver of bright sunlight drifted through the curtains. It tickled Blaire's eyes, forcing her awake. Unaware of her surroundings, she let out a morning moan. When she buckled her butt back, she bumped into another body. For a moment she was confused. Then she turned. Tate's dreamy eyes looked down on her.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," He whispered softly.

"Morning," She said in her best morning voice. "How long have you been up?"

"I don't know," He admitted. "Long enough."

She reached up a hand and pulled his face down to hers, kissing him softly. She ran her fingers along the soft skin of his porcelain face. It was still strange to her how real he felt to her.

He pulled away, dragging his lips away slowly. He pressed his forehead against hers. She could feel his tender, sincere smile sink into her skin.

For a second, she allowed herself to be happy. She cherished the moment. Nothing else mattered but the two of them, lying there. Time didn't exist. Entangled, they were one single being, their cold bodies mocking warmth under the heat of the sun.

But she couldn't be happy for too long. She concluded that it was a curse. No matter how hard she tried to love her afterlife, negativity reigned supreme. She was bombarded with thoughts of Violet, the man she had just killed, her father's abuse, her destructive last day on Earth.

Blaire stirred out of Tate's grasp. She sat up in bed and draped an arm across her bare chest.

"Where are you going?" Tate asked.

"Vivien is probably worried about me," Blaire said as she searched for an outfit. "I came back late last night."

"Why?" Tate snorted. "You aren't her daughter."

Blaire ripped a yellow sundress off a hanger and slipped it over her head, "I might as well be."

She plopped on the bed next to where Tate was sitting and kissed him softly on the cheek, and then headed to the stairs. As she began to unlock them, Tate called out after her,

"Can I come back tonight?"

She turned from her spot on the second step and smiled, "Come back every night."

Blaire scampered down the stairs and into the kitchen. She'd spotted the time on the clock, a little after 10, and figured Vivien might still be enjoying breakfast. She was right. Vivien was seated at the island, her eyes fixated on the news program running across the TV screen.

"Hey!" Blaire greeted, leaning against the counter. "Sorry I got back late last night. I lost track of time. I hope I didn't worry you."

"With all the terrible things that have been happening to this family lately, I couldn't help but worry."

The inside of Blaire's dead body radiated with warmth. Vivien had just included Blaire in her family.

"I'm sorry," Blaire apologized again. "I didn't have any way of contacting you."

"Which is why," Vivien grinned, sliding off the stool. "I got you this."

She pulled a box out of a bag that had been lying next to her on the counter. There was a picture of a sleek black phone on the front of the box. She handed the box to Blaire.

"Surprise! I got up early this morning and headed over to the Alltel store. I added an extra line to the plan and got you this phone. I've already programed my number, Violet's number, and Ben's number in. Oh, and the police department, of course."

Blaire set the box on the counter and hugged Vivien, "Thank you."

"It's partially for me, so I'll stop worrying constantly. It's been taking a toll on my body, and I really can't afford to hurt the babies any-"

"Babies?" Blaire corrected. "Don't you mean baby?"

Vivien's face contorted, "Surprise number two! I'm having twins!"

Blaire steadied herself, "Holy shit, Vivien."

"You're telling me. The doctor said they're both healthy and perfect as they can be."

"Have you thought of names yet?" Blaire asked. "I love thinking of baby names. I'm never going to have kids, but I like to fantasize about what I'd name them if I ever did have them."

"Why can't you have kids?" Vivien asked.

"I'm infertile," Blaire lied with a frown. "I had a lot of hormonal problems when I first started my period. By the time I got it checked out, it was too late to fix anything."

"You can still adopt."

"Yeah. Maybe."

Blaire spun around to pour some coffee, and Vivien unmuted the television. Blaire didn't pay much attention to the broadcast until Vivien exclaimed.

"Oh my God. Listen to this story, Blaire."

Blaire steadied her gaze on the set. It was a local news story, running in vivid colors. The headline sent a shock down her spine: "Gruesome motel murder victim identified as Mayor Reynolds' son." She listened closer as the reporter described the murder as one of the worst police has seen in years.

She tried to steady her breathing- to not panic. She had killed a prominent government figure's son. Not only killed, but brutally murdered. The story was running on every news channel, each feature giving a little more detail. All of the reporters, however, confirmed that police had no suspects.

"It's so sick- what people can do," Vivien frowned. "I'm honestly afraid to raise my children in a world where these things happen."

"I know," Blaire agreed. "Horrible."

"Hey, will you go get Violet up?" Vivien asked. "She's been trapped in her room for hours."

Blaire gritted her teeth and agreed. She stomped up the stairs and burst into Violet's room. Violet was awake, lying under the covers in the dark. Blaire flicked the lights on and hovered over Violet.

"You don't look too well."

"Leave me alone," Violet creaked. "I'm sick."

"Yeah," Blaire leaned over. "Like I said, you don't look too well. What's wrong? Nausea-Heartburn-Indigestion- Upset Stomach-Diarrhea? There is medicine for that."

"Just go away. I want to sleep it off."

Something wasn't right. Blaire felt it. The air in the room was heavy, casting a morbid spell around everything. Everything felt…. lifeless.

"I don't think you can sleep this off," Blaire mused.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep. Your mom wants to see you, but I'll tell her you're sick."

Violet rubbed her jawline and muttered a thanks. Blaire scurried back down to the kitchen. She shouted a brief explanation to Vivien, and then went to the door leading to the basement.

"Tate," She whispered loudly. "Tate, come here."

A set of familiar arms wrapped around her torso.

"What do you want, Bug?" He muttered softly against her skin.

As much as she didn't want to, she wiggled out of his arms. He was wearing a rare smile, his black eyes lit up with life. It made it extremely difficult to get him to take her seriously.

"I need you to tell me the truth," Blaire said. "I need you to tell me what happened last night with Violet."

His face fell, "What do you mean?"

"I didn't stutter, Tate," She said. "What happened? Why was Violet unconscious? What happened to her?"

"Nothing."

"I can tell when you're lying," Blaire said with a half-smile. "Tell me what happened."

Tate sighed and nodded, pulling her over to the dusty seats in the corner. They sat down, and Tate rested his head on the dusty cushion.

"She took pills," He said. "A lot of them. All of them, actually. The bottle was empty when I got to her room. I couldn't let her die. I couldn't. So… I took her to the bathroom. I figured I could wake her up. When the cold water didn't help, I tried to get her to throw up. She did… a little bit. She just took so many, Blaire."

"So what are you telling me?" Blaire muttered, not wanting to know the answer.

"She's dead."

"Fuck!" Blaire jumped out of the seat and cursed. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! She doesn't know? She doesn't, right? How are we going to tell Vivien? And Ben? Oh my God, Tate."

He stood up and grabbed her arms, "Shhhh! Don't you think I've thought of that? I've handled it."

"You've handled it, how? By not doing anything."

"Don't get angry!" Tate exclaimed, his voice shaking. "Don't get mad!"

Blaire rubbed her face and took a deep breath, "I'm not mad at you. Calm down. I'm just trying to figure things out. Where is the body?"

"I've taken care of it."

"Never mind. I don't want to know right now. I need you to make sure Violet doesn't figure out she's dead- not until we have a way to tell her. I'll take care of everything else."

She wasn't sure how she would take care of everything. All she knew was that she needed to think of something that didn't hurt her new family or Tate, and she needed to think of it fast.


	10. Chapter 10

Blaire stood outside small shop for a long minute. She'd been up all night searching the internet for occult stores around Los Angeles. At first she got nothing but knockoff stores- wanna be Charmed inspired places. Digging a little deeper, she found some genuine stores. Another few dozen pages later, she managed to find the perfect store. Nestled a few side streets off an unknown road, the unmarked store was creepy from the outside. She was nervous to see it from the inside.

She eventually gathered the courage to pass through the door. She was surprised at how normal it seemed inside. She half expected a gothic nightmare. Instead, she was greeted with a rich red and orange Celtic themed room.

"I've been waiting for you."

Blaire jumped, startled. A middle aged blonde woman dressed in a flowing, elegant dress of vibrant colors. Her hair was pulled into a frizzy blonde braid. She wore a tight smile as she crossed the room.

"You're the spirit girl I saw in my vision. You're here for help."

"Right," Blaire nodded, furrowing her brows together.

"Don't look so stunned," The woman said.

"I'm not," Blaire said. "Well, I am. I'm just not used to people recognizing me as a ghost."

"Let's not waste any time. I can see that you're tired. Come on. Let's sit down and discuss what brings you to my humble shop."

She led Blaire past rows of books to a cozy corner with a few old overstuffed chairs. They sat down, and the woman looked at Blaire.

"Who are you?" Blaire asked.

"That isn't important," The woman said. "Why are you here?"

"I don't know, to be honest," Blaire admitted. "It's all really complicated."

"Try me."

"I need a way," Blaire struggled. "To bring someone back to life."

"Impossible."

"100% impossible?"

"Unless you want a zombie-like creature. If there was a way to bring back the dead, death would cease to exist."

Blaire's mind raced as she searched for more possibilities. She needed to solve this problem before it got out of control.

"Is there a way to turn back time?"

"Well," The woman said as she leaned forward. "Yes, but it isn't something a beginner should dabble with…"

"You can help me then, right?" Blaire's voice was laced with hope.

"I don't get myself caught up in other people's magic."

"Please," Blaire begged. "Something terrible has happened, and I need to fix it. I need to fix it for my family."

"It takes some time to prepare..."

"Please," Blaire said again. "I will give you everything I have. Please, just help me."

The woman sighed and nodded, "Okay. I will help you. How far are we going back?"

"Just yesterday."

"That will still take some time to gather and prepare the materials. Here- let me get your information. I'll contact you when I'm ready."

The woman stood up and walked through the maze of bookcases. Blaire scrambled to follow. The trail ended at the tiny front counter. The woman slid a small piece of paper over to Blaire and requested just a phone number. Blaire wrote down her newly memorized cellphone number and handed it back.

She leaned against the counter and asked, "Do you have any books on spirits I could buy? Just to keep me busy for now."

The woman slowly nodded and walked to a tall row of shelves and grabbed a thick book. She slid it across the counter to Blaire.

"How much do I owe you?"

"It's on the house. Now leave. If you want me to help you, I need to start preparing."

Blaire thanked her once again and stuffed the book into her messenger bag. She hustled out of the tiny store onto the empty back streets of Los Angeles. She took a string of public transit back to the house. Dodging Vivien, Blaire headed up to her room. She flung herself on the bed and opened the book.

"Where have you been all morning?" Tate questioned, coming out of a shadow. "What's that?"

"I've been fixing this mess," Blaire muttered.

"How?"

"Let's just say, I've found a way to go back and make sure Violet never takes those pills."

Tate stretched out next Blaire on the bed and nuzzled his head against her arm. He looked up to her with a crooked smile.

"Come on, Bug. Tell me what's going on."

"No," Blaire said sternly.

Tate reached up and pulled her lips to his. Blaire smiled against his skin.

"I'm not saying anything. You aren't kissing it out of me."

"I can try," Tate grinned.


	11. Chapter 11

A week had passed, and Blaire had not heard from the woman from the store. She spent almost all of her free time with her nose buried in the large spell book, waiting for a call. She was just over halfway through the thousand page book. She wasn't sure exactly what she was looking for. She'd know when she saw it. Until then, she'd keep searching.

It was late, and although Blaire hadn't been getting a lot of sleep lately, she wasn't tired. Her eyes, though, were sore. She decided to take a break from reading. She slid down the stairs with the intention of making a cup of hot chocolate. On the third step, a gunshot rang through the hallway, followed by a string of startled screams.

Blaire bolted down the rest of the stairs to the source of the noise- Vivien's bedroom.

"Viv!" Blaire yelled. "Viv, are you okay?"

She burst through the door to see Ben lying on the floor in agony. Vivien was sitting upright in bed, holding a shaking gun.

"Viv," Blaire breathed, gliding across the bed. "Give me the gun, and tell me what happened."

Vivien agreed, her body quaking as she passed the gun over to Blaire. Blaire carefully laid the gun on the nightstand out of Vivien's reach and tried to calm the woman for a quick second before she checked on Dr. Harmon. Ben was conscious and aware of what was happening, but he was in a lot of pain. Blaire was torn between her adoptive parents. She wanted to wrap everything up with a pretty bow and make it okay for them. Now she had to choose between Ben, who was in searing pain, or Vivien, who was scared and confused. Ultimately, she climbed back up into the bed with Vivien.

"I thought- I thought he was my attacker," Vivien whispered into Blaire's shoulder. "I thought it was the Rubber man."

Blaire felt sick to her stomach. There was only one person in the world who she knew as the Rubber man, and she didn't put hurting Vivien past him.

Blaire stayed with Vivien for a few more seconds until the distant sirens became more noticeable. When she calculated they were just outside the house, she excused herself. Pushing past Violet, who was just now emerging from her chamber, Blaire ran down the stairs. She nearly tripped over her own feet trying to get to the basement.

"Tate!" She screamed. "Tate! I know you're down here!"

"What?" He said, peeking around the corner. "Stop yelling. You're going to wake everyone up."

She stormed over and wagged a finger in his direction, "It's a little too late for that."

The sudden trample of footsteps and commotion above them made Tate look at Blaire with confusion. Before he could say anything, she slapped him, her hand colliding with his cold skin. He jumped back, his black eyes riddled with pain.

"What did you do to Vivien?"

"What?" Tate whimpered. "Blaire- I don't know what you're talking about."

"What did you do to Vivien?" Blaire repeated. "She said the Rubber Man hurt her. You're the only person I've seen in that stupid costume. Tell me the truth, Tate. Tell me everything. I don't want any secrets between us."

"Bug," He said, his voice flocculating. "I don't remember."

"Bullshit!" She cursed loudly. "Tell me now, or I'm leaving forever."

He reached out and grabbed her arms, "Okay. I did it."

"You did what? Say it."

"I… I attacked Vivien. She's pregnant with my babies."

Blaire felt the tears trickle down her face. She knew it was true, but she didn't want to believe it.

"How do you know I was the man in the suit?" Tate questioned, his demeanor changing.

"I-I just…. I've been around, drifting for a few years."

"Spying, you mean."

"Tate," Blaire muttered. "I'm a ghost. I'm dead. You're dead too."

Tate's face was still for a long second, and then he burst into laughter, "You think I don't know that?"

"You know?" Blaire said, wide eyed. "Why didn't you tell me? Everyone thinks you don't know!"

"Everyone?" He said with an arched eyebrow. "It isn't something I say when I introduce myself. Besides, I thought you knew that I knew. It isn't that hard to figure out when you're dead."

Blaire rubbed her temple. All these years she'd been staying away just far enough so that he didn't get suspicious. He was so innocently corrupted. She didn't want him to find out. Something inside her wanted him to think he was alive for the rest of eternity. But he's known the entire time.

"Do you remember dying?" Tate asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah," Blaire whispered, casting her eyes to the ground.

"I remember the police shot me. I just don't know why."

Blaire looked up at him with a crooked smile, "They shot you because you're a bastard, Tate. You're a murderer. You're a rapist. You murdered all those people at Westfield. You murdered Chad and Patrick- don't think I don't know about that- and you raped and attacked Vivien."

"Stop it!" Tate snapped. "Shut up!"

"It's okay," Blaire reached out an arm. "I still love you, Tate. As much as I hate you right now, I will always love you."

They lingered in a calm silence, her hand still on his arm. Neither was too worried about what was happening above them in the house. Blaire knew she had to tell Tate about the mayor's son. She couldn't let him think he was the only damned one.

"Tate," She muttered. "No more secrets, right? I did something terrible the other day…"

Tate looked at her with encouraging eyes.

"The day Violet took those pills and you tried to save her- the day I disappeared for a while- I got into a car with a stranger. He took me to some cheap motel. I was so empty inside, and I just needed to feel someone's touch…"

"What did you do?" Tate cried softly.

"I killed him. I stabbed him until I saw nothing but red. There was so much blood everywhere, and I just couldn't stop."

Tate looked humorously relieved. Blaire hadn't reveled that she had sex with the stranger to not only protect Tate, but herself. She couldn't be alone anymore.

Tate caressed her face, "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No," Blaire said.

He kissed her softly. Though she was still angry at him, she knew she wouldn't be for long. There was something about Tate that made her forget all the bad things, or at least pardon them. Now that they knew each other's murderous secrets, the bond between them was stronger.

Their morbid moment of love was interrupted with the noises upstairs traveled from the second floor to right outside the basement. Vivien's protest raised Blaire's alerts. She pushed Tate away and scurried up the stairs. She was too late. She pushed Ben aside and watched as two men ushered Vivien into a large white van.

"I had to," Ben said softly, casting his eyes down at Blaire. "I had to send her away. She's sick."

Blaire stood in the doorway long after the van disappeared into the dark night. She'd just lost her second chance at a mother. The seeping hole in her lifeless heart wouldn't be okay until everything was better. She was going to fix it. She was going to fix everything. Somehow.


	12. Chapter 12

Blaire spent most of her time over the next few days by Vivien's side. Everything at home was a mess. The rest of the ghosts felt as if they had free reign over the house again. Violet was a mess, trapped inside her bedroom. Ben was a mess, trapped inside his office. Nothing was right.

Though the woman at the shop said it would take some time to gather the materials, Blaire was beginning to think she wasn't going to ever call. It had been almost two weeks.

Vivien was a drugged up mess, but Blaire still held her hand and told her stories about her travels. She noticed that Vivien seemed to focus more when she talked about Italy, so she tried to remember everything that she did while she was over there. She told stories of the people she met, the food she ate, the places she saw. Blaire was in the middle of a story when the door to the room creaked open and Ben walked in.

"Hi," Blaire said with a small smile, "How are you feeling?"

Ben shrugged, "Can I have some alone time with my wife? It'll just be a few minutes. I can drive you home." He handed her the keys. "Go wait in the car."

She looked down at Vivien for a second before saying goodbye and taking the keys. She exited the building in a hurry. Once inside the car, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the leather seat. She almost drifted away, but her phone began to sing an annoying jingle. Blaire jumped to answer it.

"Hello?"

"It's me," The voice said. She recognized it as the woman from the store. "I'm ready."

"What do you need me to do?" Blaire said in a hurry.

"Tell me the address of the place where the ritual will be taking place. I will arrive at 10 pm tonight."

When Blaire rattled off the address to the house, the woman hung up the phone.

Blaire didn't notice how distant and angry Ben was on the drive back to the house. She didn't notice how strange Tate was acting, or that Violet had emerged from her room. She didn't care that Chad and Patrick were fighting, or how Hayden was working on her plan to get Ben back. All she cared about was that in less than 24 hours, everything would be back to normal. Violet would be alive, Vivien would be okay, and Ben would be happy.

To ensure privacy, Blaire decided to do the ritual in the attic. She'd be away from almost all the other spirits, as they didn't wander up into the space. Also, she could lock herself away from Ben.

Once it grew darker, Blaire relocated from the living room to the front porch. She didn't want Ben to know she was having a visitor. Ben or any of the other spirits, for that matter. Constantly checking the time, Blaire finally let out a sigh of relief when the woman tottered down the street, almost appearing out of nowhere. As she got closer, Blaire could make out the large tote she was carrying. Blaire hustled her in the house and up to the attic without a greeting. Once the stairs were latched tight behind them, Blaire finally turned to look at the witch.

"This house feeds on pain," She muttered. "I can feel the souls inside heaving with sorrow."

Blaire frowned, "I'm trying to fix that."

"I don't know how much you can do, my dear. I hope the ritual we're about to perform will aid you."

"I do too. I figure we can do it over in that space," Blaire pointed. "I cleared it out."

The woman walked over and nodded, "This will do. Turn out the lights."

Blaire did as she was told. The room fell dark and silent. A few seconds later, a candle was lit. Then another. Blaire watched as the woman laid out a pentagon pattern of different colored candles. In the middle, she set down a small clear bowl. She reached into her bag and grabbed a few vials a dark, gooey liquid that looked like blood. Blaire didn't intend on asking her.

"We are traveling back to the morning of April 18, 2011, correct?"

Blaire nodded, "Correct."

Standing in the middle of the pentagon shaped layout, right next to the bowl of blood, the woman explained, "This takes a lot of power. Only an experienced witch can perform it, and even then it sometimes doesn't work. Once back to that date, humans will remember everything that has happened; only it will feel like déjà vu. The spirits will remember it all, and most likely be confused. You will have to explain to them."

"What if we're going back in time to prevent someone from becoming a spirit? She doesn't known she's dead right now."

"Yes she does." Tate stepped out of the shadows, as he was known to do. "She tried leaving today, but couldn't. I had to tell her. I had to show her."

"You've caused a lot of pain," The woman said, focusing on Tate. "I can feel it around you. You must leave now, before you influence the Gods."

"Just go, Tate," Blaire breathed.

He stared at her for a hard second before disappearing into air.

"If this girl now knows she is dead, she will remember it as a ghost, but be given the chance to change history as we know it… unless her fate is to die in the way she did."

"Can we just get this over with?" Blaire asked as nicely as she could. "Please?"

The woman nodded and progressed. She began to mumble a slew of words. At first, they were unrecognizable. As she became clearer, the room around them became darker. It felt both more sinister and clearer and free than it ever had.

"Winds of time, gather round, give me wings. Power of the witches rise, coarse unseen across the skies, take me back to where I'll find, what I wish in place and time."

She chanted the saying over and over again until the space around them seemed to collapse. Blaire felt as if she was being crushed. The witch's words were so loud inside her head. The lit candles appeared to have set the entire room on fire. She collapsed and felt the thick cool blood on her skin. Everything was spinning into a vortex of pain.

Then it all stopped.

Blaire opened her eyes and bolted into an upright position. She grabbed her arms to make sure there was no blood. Her head was clear, and she heard no chanting. She stood up and looked around. The witch was gone, as were her ritual items. However, there was a pentagram seared into the wood floor. The pentagram was the last thing on her mind. She tripped over her feet stumbling down the flights of stairs. She threw Violet's door open.

Violet was tucked away under her covers. Blaire plopped down on the bed and shook her awake.

"What?" Violet snapped. "I'm sleeping."

"Did it work?" Blaire breathed. "Are you still a ghost?"

"What are you talking about?" Violet said, suddenly alert and awake. "What happened?"

Blaire grabbed Violet's hand and yanked her out of bed. Not caring that she was still dressed in her loose pajamas, she pulled the girl outside. It was the moment of truth. She yanked her past the looming black gate and into the street.

"I'm here," Violet whispered. "I'm free. I can leave."

She collapsed to the ground, her arms digging into the road. Blaire watched her embrace the gravel. She was almost jealous of the girl's new found life. Almost. Violet finally looked up at Blaire with a tear stained face.

"What did you do?" She sobbed.

"I turned back time to the morning of the day you killed yourself."

"But why? You hate me."

Blaire thought about her words before speaking, "I had to fix my family."

Violet didn't want to leave the ground just outside the house's grasp. Blaire turned and looked up at the house in all of its powerful glory. Standing in a downstairs window, peeking out from the curtain, stood Tate. He locked eyes with Blaire, then faded into nothing.


	13. Chapter 13

Having seen and felt death, Violet embraced her second chance at life. She thrived outside of the house. She went to school every day and stayed out long after the final bell rang. She visited her mom nearly every day. She kept her distance from Tate and the other ghosts, including Blaire.

Ben was shocked at the swift change in his daughter. He gave Blaire credit for the change, saying she did more in a few months than he had ever done in years.

Vivien would be released shortly, and the family would be complete again. Blaire had a family that loved her as well as her one true love in the world. She had never felt so complete, so normal, in her entire life or afterlife.

Swaying around the house, Blaire noticed Ben was in his office. Something pulled Blaire into the room.

"Blaire," Ben said, looking up. "Is something wrong?"

"I just," Blaire struggled. "I just need to talk to someone."

Looking instantly concerned, Ben ushered Blaire to sit down. He urged her to speak her mind.

"I'm happy."

Ben cracked a smile, "Okay. I don't see how that is a problem."

"It scares me," Blaire admitted. "I haven't been happy in a long time."

"It's good to be happy."

"That's what I've heard," Blaire joked with a half-smile. "I finally have people that care about me- a family that cares about me."

"We care about you too," Ben nodded. "That's actually something I've been meaning to talk to you about. When Vivien gets out of the hospital, she wants to go to Florida to give birth. We want you to move with us."

"What?" Blaire said, her face falling. "We can't… we can't leave the house."

"Here we go with all of this house nonsense," Ben muttered under his breath.

"I love this house, Ben! We can't just leave!"

"It really isn't a topic of discussion anymore."

"What about Violet?" Blaire tried. "She loves it here, too."

"She actually doesn't seem to mind anymore. She doesn't want to switch schools again, but we're thinking about home schooling her anyway."

Blaire stood abruptly and stormed out of the office, not wanting to listen to Ben anymore. She stalked out of the house and down the few blocks to the bus stop. She rode the bus halfway across town to the hospital where Vivien was staying. When she got to Vivien's room, she was sitting upright in bed reading a book.

"Hey, Blaire," She smiled. "Violet was just here. Did you pass her in the hall?"

"No," Blaire said, sitting down. She cut right to the chase. "Ben told me you want to move to Florida."

"There is no want," Vivien said as she laid the book down. "I'm not going back to that house."

"What if I told you I can rid the house of all the evil? That I can make it normal again?"

"You know?" Vivien whispered.

Blaire's eyes lit up, "The house is powerful."

"If it's so powerful, how are you going to stop it?"

"I've got friends who are more powerful than the house," Blaire said as she stood up. She walked to the door. "I'll see you soon, Viv. Don't worry about the house. I'm going to fix everything."

Blaire could not backtrack through town fast enough. She remembered every turn and side road to the unmarked witch's store. Her mind was racing as she came up upon where the store was supposed to be.

It wasn't there.

Instead of a door, the entire wall was stoned over. Blaire reached out and pushed on the brick to ensure that it wasn't some sort of pathetic joke. She knew the address was right, as all the surrounding details were the same.

"A building can't just disappear," She muttered under her breath. "It's impossible."

She began to press on the bricks again, trying to find some sort of pattern that would open up into the store. She tried everything. After an exhausting attempt, Blaire huffed in defeat. She pounded on the wall, turned, and began to walk back towards the main strip.

"You should know nothing is impossible."

She knew that voice. Blaire snapped around. In the back doorway of what smelled like a bakery wearing a dirty apron was the witch.

"You!" Blaire exclaimed. "What happened to your store?"

"You must have me confused for someone else," The woman smiled. "I'm just a baker."

"Bullshit!"

"Run along. You've got a book to finish."

"Wha-?" Blaire stopped in the middle of her question.

A book to finish. She could not get home fast enough. She didn't even mutter a hello to Moira or Ben. She didn't look for Tate. She went straight up to the attic to dig the book out of the hiding spot she kept it in. She flopped down on the bed and began flipping through the pages of the weathered spell book.

She had tabbed spells she thought would be useful in the house, but none of them would fix much of anything. She started where she left off. The witch had told her she had a book to finish. Maybe if she read through it all, she'd find her answer.

"What's in the book?"

Blaire peeked up to see Hayden. She looked like she was up to no good.

"Nothing."

Hayden sauntered over to the bed and peered over Blaire's shoulder.

"It doesn't look like nothing. It looks like some of that weird shit you did to bring Violet back to life."

"I didn't bring her back to life. A… friend reversed time so she never killed herself."

"Who is this friend?"

"Confidential information."

"Come on!" Hayden wrapped her arms around Blaire. "We're buds! As the sexiest two girls in this hellhole we've got to stick together. That means you tell me who your friend is and what you're reading, and I'll tell you something about your little boyfriend and that bitch Violet."

For a second, Blaire froze. Hayden knew how to get to her. But she trusted Tate more than Hayden. Instead of caving, Blaire wiggled around and threw Hayden off of her.

"Go away," She spat.

"C'mon!" Hayden whined.

"The beautiful lady said go away. You should listen to her."

Tate appeared next to the bed. He looked at her with a stern face and repeated,

"Go away."

"Fine," Hayden frowned. "But we aren't finished here."

When Hayden disappeared, Tate raised an eyebrow in Blaire's direction. He sat down on the bed and rubbed Blaire's back.

"You look crazy."

Blaire snorted, "So do you."

"Really," Tate said. "What are you looking for in that book?"

"I'm looking for answers. I'm looking for a way for this house to be better. I want my family, and I want you. There has to be a way to have both."


	14. Chapter 14

On the eve of Vivien's return to the house, Blaire enlisted Tate's help in searching through the book. They would take turns between flipping through the spirit focused spell book and performing small spells found in a book Blaire had ran out and gotten at the first occult based store she could find. Blaire needed to know that she possessed the ability to do magic before she put any more time into it. Both she and Tate were amazed at the powers they had.

They started out with basics, and by the end of the night they were orbing objects to new locations and levitating. It was exhausting, but they needed to press on with the search.

While Tate was working on his newfound ability to telepathically bring objects to himself, Blaire let out an excited gasp. She sat up straight in her bed and wiggled her fingers in excitement. Tate scurried to her side.

"What did you find?"

"This spell frees a house from haunting. It's different from any other spell I've seen, though. The innocents of the house descend to heaven, while the damned stay on Earth for the rest of eternity, but they are freed from the house's grasp."

"So, I'd be free from the house? I could leave?"

Blaire smiled, "We could leave."

"The spell wouldn't work on you?"

"I'm not so… innocent anymore," Blaire muttered.

Tate rubbed her back, "Don't think about it."

"It isn't that easy," Blaire sighed. "I saw on the news yesterday they still don't have any leads."

"That's good for you," Tate encouraged. "Now come on- tell me more about this spell."

Blaire focused on the book, "It will only work if it's done between midnight and three by four power wielding beings."

"Fuck," Tate swore. "There are two of us. Nobody else in the house can do it."

Blaire stood up and made her way to the stairs, hot with an idea, "Not necessarily. Leave that to me."

Blaire passed by Violet's room, stopping only for a second to tell her to meet her in her father's office. She scurried down the stairs in search of Ben, hoping he'd already be in his office. Violet was hot on her trail. The two burst into Ben's office. He looked up from his desk.

"Violet, Blaire… Is everything alright?"

"Blaire told me to come down here."

Ben looked at her with a worried eye. Blaire raised her hands,

"Okay. I know this is going to sound completely crazy, but I need you both to listen to me. And Ben, I need you to have an open mind. Violet, sit."

She waited until Violet sat to continue.

"This house has powers-"

"Not this again," Ben sighed.

"Dad!" Violet said. "It's true. Just listen, okay?"

Blaire started back up again, "This house has powers. It has seen a lot of sorrow, and for some reason, that sorrow holds onto the souls inside. There is a lot of good… and a lot of evil trapped in the house. I've found a way to cleanse the house. A way that works. I need your help, though."

"What? Do you need money?" Ben asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Nothing like that. I need you both to help me with the spell. It requires four people."

"There are three of us. I don't want Vivien to have to do any of this while she's pregnant," Ben started.

"That's where I come in."

Tate slowly walked into the room. Ben's eyes lit up with rage as he pushed himself up from the desk. Violet, too, looked both angry and frightened.

"Wait!" Blaire said. "Ben, we need him. We need his help."

"I thought I told you to stop hanging out with him," Ben hissed at Violet.

"It isn't me!" Violet defended. "It's Blaire. Her and Tate have some creepy romance shit going on."

Blaire had seen disappointment from her father a thousand times, but it hurt more when the looks came from Ben. He shook his head and made a move for the door.

"Ben!" Blaire exclaimed. "Do you want Vivien to have to stay in a tormented house? I love her. You love her. Violet loves her. Come on. We need one more person to make this work."

"We can just leave like Vivien wants," Ben shrugged. "And avoid all of this."

"Dad," Violet said softly as she looked at Tate. "We need to do this."

Ben rubbed his face and leaned against his desk. He sighed, "What do we need to do?"

Blaire smiled a little, "The spell needs to be done between midnight and three. We could do it tonight if I can gather all the materials. I need water, fennel, oats, pine, sage, and a black candle."

"It's 11 at night. I don't know if I'm going to be able to find all of this at Wal-Mart," Ben said as Blaire scribbled the items on a post it note.

She handed the piece of paper to Ben and ushered him out. She then grabbed Violet and Tate and pulled them up to the attic. She decided since the scorch marks were still there from the last spell that it would be best to do the ritual up in her room. As much as she didn't want the two to be together, Violet needed to practice magic, and Tate had learned fast. She was hoping he'd teach her to learn just as quickly as he had. While they worked on basics, she tidied up the room, clearing a big patch of space around the black pentagram. She opened the window to allow a clear passageway from the house to the outside. And then she studied the lengthy spell.

Ben didn't arrive home for almost 45 minutes. He stumbled up into the attic with an arm full of shopping bags, passing them to Blaire with ease. She thanked him and dumped the contents onto the ground. It was all there.

She wasted no time. She swept the ingredients into the bag again and hustled down the stairs. She boiled a pan of hot water and carefully added the rest of the ingredients into the steaming water. Once the mixture was complete, she poured it into a tiny bowel.

Before the spell was performed, the house needed to be balanced. The mixture Blaire created was to be spread at the base of all the doors and windows leading to the outside world.

Starting at the front door, Blaire mumbled the words that went along with the potion, spilling some of the mixture on the floor, "Where light dwells, all darkness flee; spirit ghosts go towards the light, for ye are dead and must move on."

She almost finished the entire house when Chad sauntered out of the darkness.

"What do you think you're doing?"

She didn't break concentration to look at him, "None of your business."

"You of all people should know this shit doesn't work."

"Magic always works. It's the people that usually mess it up."

"It seems a little strange that a ghost is trying to rid a house of other ghosts, don't you think?"

Blaire rolled her eyes at the smirking spirit and hiked up the stairs to see Violet levitating and Ben moving objects.

"Fast learners," Blaire smiled.

"This is amazing!" Ben exclaimed.

"I know, I know. As much as I want to watch you move shit, we're running out of time. Come on. Get into position around the pentagram."

The three stood around the burnt up pentagram while Blaire spilt the last of the potion in front of the attic window. She swapped out the empty bowl for the black candle. She set the candle in the middle of the pentagram and lit it, then stepped back and took her position between Tate and Violet.

"Okay. This spell sends the innocents of the house to the next realm. The damned become free from the house, but do not pass on. You all are going to repeat after me. Don't stop no matter what you feel or see. Got it? I want you all to try to focus your senses and balance yourselves."

They were silent for a few seconds before Blaire started.

"The Presences that stand upon the stairs, the unseen hands that move the chairs."

As Ben, Violet, and Tate mocked her, the room fell pitch black, the light from the candle illuminating only a small portion of their bodies. They pressed on. With each new line, she felt herself growing weaker.

"No more shall ye spirits rest, ye are no longer a guest…"

The room flickered with white hot flares against the walls. The orbs turned into eerie human forms. Dr. Montgomery and Nora were first. They pressed against the wall, looking scared and confused. The twins. Maria and Gladys. The spirits stuck to the wall, unable to move. Elizabeth Short. Moira. Hugo. Chad and Patrick. Beau. Larry's wife, Lorraine, and their children, Margaret and Angela. Bianca, Fiona and Dallas. Hayden. Travis.

They surrounded the chanting group. All wore confused and trying to move, but they were frozen in their spots. As the group reached the final line of the spell, Blaire felt like she could faint at any moment. She knew she had to press on, not only for Vivien and her family, but for her own future.

"Bid you depart, banished from this home. The innocents, your new life to start. The damned, cursed to roam."

As Ben, Violet, and Tate mocked her words, the room began to spin. The spirits twisted into orbs. A bone shattering boom shook the house, and then the orbs bolted out of the open window. From her spot, she could barely make out the streak of colors jet through the dark sky.

The room stopped. Blaire couldn't support herself anymore. She collapsed to the ground with a thud. As she fluttered in and out of consciousness, all she thought of was how calm the house finally felt.


	15. Chapter 15

Blaire woke up to Tate's face, staring down at her. Beside Tate crouched Violet and Ben.

"Are you okay?" Tate questioned.

"Fine," Blaire carefully pulled herself into a sitting position. "Just a little drained after all of that."

"Maybe you should go lie down," Ben suggested.

Tate helped Blaire stand. She tried her hardest to look stable so Ben wouldn't press her any longer. She had better things to do than to drift between worlds.

"Do you feel it?"

"Feel what?" Violet asked.

"Nothing," Blaire smiled. "The house is at rest."

"It feels…" Ben trailed off. "It feels good."

"I'm going to go out and make sure everything is okay. You two stay here and call me if anything unexpected happens. Tate- come with me."

Ben gave Blaire a warning look, but nodded in agreement. Blaire carefully took Tate's hand and walked down both flights of stairs to the front door. She could feel the nervousness and fear pulsating through being. Every step they took intensified his worries.

They passed through the front door. On the luscious green lawn, Blaire felt like she was holding hands with a puddle of emotions. She turned and looked up at Tate with a weak smile.

"It's going to be okay."

"What if I can't leave?" He whispered.

"You can," Blaire encouraged. "I know you've dreamt about this moment for decades. Come on. We'll do it together."

With Blaire's encouragement, Tate nodded and stepped off of the grass onto the cold, weathered sidewalk. For a second, she feared he'd be zipped back to the house, damned to spend his life on a never ending loop of self-loathing. But that didn't happened. He stayed, his feet planted on the ground.

"Holy fuck," Tate muttered. "I'm free."

He turned with an excited grin and grabbed Blaire's face, crashing his lips down hard on hers. His words were excited against her pale skin,

"I can't believe you did it. You're my angel, Bug. You did it!"

She reached up and caressed his cheek, "I'm no angel."

"You are," He kissed her forehead. "I want to take you somewhere."

"Where?"

"Paris. Rome. Madrid. Venice. London. Florence. Fuck if I know! I just want to run away with you. I want to be with you forever."

Blaire smiled, "We can't go that far tonight, but I do know somewhere we can go for the night."

She slipped into the house unnoticed and grabbed Vivien's car keys off the counter. Ben had given her permission to use the vehicle while Vivien was gone. She figured that rule still applied. She also slipped through the house, grabbing two bottles of wine and a blanket. She scurried back out to the driveway and unlocked the car, sliding in the front seat. She ushered Tate to get into the front seat.

She bolted out of the driveway quickly, stopping only at the end of the street when the house was out of sight. Tate looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Blaire mocked the look and unmuted the CD in the system, turning it to the fifth track. The album was Nevermind by Nirvana, the song Lithium. It was her and Tate's bible when they were alive.

I'm so happy cause today I've found my friends- they're in my head.

She started driving again. Tate reached over and grabbed one of Blaire's hands. As she started to drive a route she'd never forget, Tate relaxed his head on the cool leather seat. He sang along to the song in a beautiful slur of feeling.

I'm so lonely, but that's okay, I shaved my head, and I'm not sad. And just maybe I'm to blame for all I've heard, but I'm not sure. I'm so excited, I can't wait to meet you there, but I don't care. I'm so horny, but that's okay… my will is good. Hey, hey, hey.

Blaire missed the sound of his voice. For nearly an hour, she was soothed by the enchanting sound of Tate. The drive took her back to the summer of 92' when she first got her license. They'd roll down the windows, crank the music, and drive for hours.

When they pulled up on the empty parking lot of the Malibu coast and she turned the car off, Tate looked at her with a smile.

"Where are we?"

"The closest place to paradise we can get tonight," Blaire said as she reached into the back. She grabbed the wine and the blanket. "Come on!"

Tate shrugged in acceptance and followed Blaire out of the car. With her free hand she grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the beach. She'd never been to the spot before, but had read about it in dozens of travel magazines. She vaguely remembered there being some sort of rock enclosure that looked right out on the water. After a few minutes of quiet searching, she found the secluded spot. She laid the blanket out on the sand and carefully plopped the wine next to it.

Tate pulled her into a tight hug, his hands slowly traveling up and down her back. He pressed his lips to her forehead.

"I'm going to open my eyes and this is all going to be gone," Tate whispered. "I'm not allowed to be happy. I've done so many horrible things…"

"This is real. I promise."

"I've lived in a nightmare for as long as I can remember, Blaire," He shifted to look at her. "My life isn't a nightmare anymore. With you, it's a dream."

"Maybe you've done your time," Blaire suggested. She sat down on the blanket, pulling Tate down with her. "Maybe you can be at peace now."

"I'm afraid," Tate sighed as he reclined.

Blaire snuggled against his side, "Don't be."

"For almost 20 years the only time I've been outside that house is on Halloween. I don't know about anything. Everything has changed so much. Seeing things outside the view of that house is weird."

"You'll be fine. I promise."

Tate angled his head to smile down at Blaire, "I don't deserve you, Bug. I don't know how I spent so long with you."

"I came back," Blaire whispered.

"I love you so much," Tate kissed her softly.

"I love you too."

Tate extended a long arm up and grabbed a bottle of wine. He inspected it for a long second, spinning it slowly.

"You managed to grab the cheapest chardonnay in the house."

"I didn't look!" Blaire defended.

Tate laughed and popped open the bottle. He took a swig and passed it over to Blaire. She took a small drink and set the bottle back in the sand. She propped herself up on an elbow and leaned over Tate. After a quick smile, she bent down and kissed him softly. Tate's first night out of the house as a free ghost was going to be a night he'd never forget.


	16. Chapter 16

The sun peeked up over the soothing crashing waves of the ocean. Tucked in tight and nestled against Tate's naked body, Blaire stirred. She gave a small stretch, draping her arms over Tate's chest. He looked down at her with a smile.

"Morning," He mumbled, his morning voice sending shivers down her spine.

"Morning," She mocked. She wiggled into a sitting position, not bothering to pull the blanket over her exposed body. "It's so pretty out here."

"It sure is," Tate smiled, sitting up. He wrapped an arm around her. "Cold though."

"So, are you still feeling… weird?"

Tate's face scrunched, "I still feel like this isn't real."

They sat for a few minutes in silence. Blaire was mesmerized by the movement of the waves, and Tate was mesmerized by Blaire. She knew that the moment couldn't last forever, though. They needed to get back to Los Angeles and back to the house.

Blaire groaned and reached for her pile of clothes. She lazily put her bra on.

"What are you doing?" Tate protested.

"We need to get back before Ben wakes up."

"Can't we do that naked?"

Blaire laughed, "In 10th grade when Danny White tried snapping my picture at that party while I changed you busted his face in. I'd hate to see what you'd do to all the innocent people on the beach if they saw me completely naked."

Tate watched Blaire finish getting dressed. She urged him to get off the blanket and get dressed himself. After some words of encouragement, he got up and began pulling his clothes on. Blaire folded the blanket into a neat square and tucked it under her arm.

They walked back to the car hand in hand in a haze of pure affection. Once at the car, Blaire tossed the blanket into the backseat. She was almost afraid to check what time it was. The sun was barely up, and Ben wasn't an early riser. But today they were going to get Vivien at 9. He was probably anxious and excited. When she started the car up, she peaked at the neon numbers. It was a little after 6. That gave them plenty of time.

Nirvana played as they drove back, just as it had when they started their journey. They managed to avoid the early bird traffic by a few minutes and arrived home after an hour drive. As they pulled into the driveway, the house lights were off, something Blaire was thankful of.

"I don't wanna go in there," Tate said softly, his eyes hard on the looming house. "What if I can't leave?"

"The spell worked," Blaire assured him with a smile. "But you don't have to go in. You can stay outside."

He nodded, "I'm going to walk around. Experience this city on a day that isn't Halloween."

They climbed out of the car, meeting behind it, close to the road. Tate and Blaire shared a soft goodbye kiss. Blaire had felt good about the spell all night but was just now feeling nervous. Tate was stuck in the early 90s. Sticking him in modern, busy LA might not be a good idea. She didn't want him to get into trouble or maybe even not return. But he insisted he'd be back by the end of the night and kissed her once again.

Blaire snuck into the house, setting the keys where she left them last. After putting on a pot of coffee, she hiked up to the bathroom. Smelling like sex and ocean spray, she needed a shower.

By the time she showered, went up to the attic to get ready, and went back down to the kitchen, Ben was up and ready, sitting at the counter. He greeted her with a bright smile as he raised his coffee cup.

"Good morning!"

"You're a little too chipper for it being so early."

Ben chuckled, "I had a beautiful night's sleep in my beautiful peaceful house thanks to my beautiful Blaire."

"Well, I try," Blaire blushed.

They chatted in the kitchen while waiting for Violet to get ready. Blaire had heard the shower running as she left the attic. With just 2 minutes until they were supposed to leave for the hospital, Violet scuttled down the stairs. Ben wasted no time getting the two girls out of the house to his car. A few seconds down the road, Violet pressed into Blaire.

"What time did you get home last night?"

"Um," Blaire drawled. "I didn't check."

"I stayed up until 3 and you still weren't back."

"Are you sure?" Blaire questioned. "I think I was back by then."

"I'm sure."

"Violet," Ben scolded. "Blaire is an adult. She's in control of her life enough so that you can leave her alone."

Violet was silent the rest of the ride. Blaire had underestimated Violet's ability to bitch up a good moment. She'd promised herself she'd never bring up the good deed she did by turning back time and bringing Violet back to life, but by the end of the ride, she was damn close to.

Vivien was waiting in the lobby of the ward. Even though she was still in the building, it was a pleasant change seeing her outside of her drab, sterile room. She welcomed the family with warm hugs. When she got to Blaire, she paused for a second, leaning close to her ear.

"Ben called this morning to tell me what you did," She whispered. "I will never be able to repay you. Thank you."

"You guys are important to me," Blaire responded. "I'll do anything to keep you safe."

"I'm still not completely comfortable staying after... what happened… the attack… but until the babies come, we'll stay."

"Well come on!" Blaire smiled. "Let's get you out of here. Medical white is not your color."

With a laugh, she agreed. Ben helped her out to the car. Violet followed silently. With Vivian in the front with Ben and Violet in the back with her, she had a great opportunity to express her recent feelings to the girl.

Blaire scooted closer and whispered,

"After everything I've done for you I would expect some respect."

"I didn't ask you to do shit for me," She muttered under her breath.

"Really?" Blaire tried to keep her voice down. "Because without me you'd still be rotting in that house as a member of the undead."

"You're doing okay."

"I'm dead, Violet. There is nothing okay about being dead. It hurts. I watch everything around me grow and die, and I'm just stuck here," Blaire was struggling to remain unnoticed from Ben and Violet. "Look, I'm not arguing about how shitty it is being an 18 year old ghost. Just... stop acting like I'm so terrible. I helped our family because I care about all of you, even if I don't want to admit it."

"The first time I saw you, you were a bitch threatening to steal my boyfriend from me," Violet smiled. "Now my parents have basically adopted you, you're still a bitch, and you did steal my boyfriend."

Blaire's face heated up, "If you want to play, we can play. Your family hasn't made me so soft that I can't tear you apart."

"Everything okay back there, girls?" Vivien said, her eyes in the rearview mirror. "Your face is a little red, Blaire."

"Fine," Violet and I said simultaneously, though it wasn't too convincing.

"Well, we're home now," Ben announced. "So you two can go to your separate corners for a while."

"Gladly," Violet grunted as she slid off the leather seat.

I climbed out of the car with Ben and Vivien. He helped her up the path of the driveway to the house. Blaire was hot on their heels, wrapped up in her revenge plans, when she heard her name being called from the sidewalk by a voice she didn't want to hear ever again.

She turned to face Constance with a strained look, "What?"

Constance closed the space between them.

"I saw you with my boy this morning," She rushed. "And then he left the house. He left! If I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes, I wouldn't have believed it. I still almost didn't believe it until I came over when you all were gone. The house is empty. What did you do?"

Blaire's eyes turned into slits, "Why would I tell you?"

"It involves my children, so I have the right to know."

"You may have given birth to them, but they never really were your children."

"Why, I never-"

"You're right," Blaire spat. "You never. I released the curse from the house and freed all the spirits. Now you're officially a miserable old lonely hag."

"They're all gone?" She said, breathlessly.

"Every single one of them," Blaire grinned. "Now leave our property. If I see you here again, Constance, I won't hesitate to slit your throat."

Constance gave a sad laugh, "I'd welcome death right now, silly girl."

She left before Blaire had to keep her promise. Blaire waited until the woman disappeared before turning and entering the house. Blaire could hear Vivien and Ben in the kitchen, laughing. Violet was probably sulking up in her cave.

Blaire retreated to her own cave, shutting the stairs tight behind her. She fell in the bed with a heavy sigh. Everything was back to normal. Everything was better than normal, actually. So why did she feel so empty inside?


	17. Chapter 17

"Miss me?"

Blaire smiled as Tate's dark voice drifted over her body. She'd been lying in her bed for hours, staring out the open window. Ben and Vivien spent the afternoon together, calling the girls down for dinner. After, they insisted on a game and a movie, as a family. After watching a new release action flick and dominating everyone at Monopoly, Blaire went up to her room. It was nearly midnight. Tate still wasn't back. She stayed up and waited for him nearly half the night.

Rolling over, she pulled him down into a kiss, "You know I did. What took you so long?"

"I uh," Tate fumbled over his words. "I lost track of time."

Blaire cocked an eyebrow, "I wish I could believe you."

Tate reclined next to her, pulling her head on his chest. He stroked her hair slowly. For a second, she didn't care. She didn't care what he did or didn't do. She didn't care about the quiver in his voice as he tried to find words.

"Tate," She said sternly, raising her head. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" With another look from Blaire, he caved. "I just walked around and ended up in a crack house."

Blaire bolted up, her hand extending to hit his stomach, "Tate!"

"I did a few lines, but nothing else happened. I swear."

"I can't believe you," Blaire fumed. "Can ghosts even get high? And how did you just end up in a crack house?"

"Calm down," He soothed, pulling her arm. "Just let me explain."

"You already did," She said. "I don't think you can explain any more than you just did."

"I did start out just walking around town," He admitted," But then I got bored. I can't die, so I figured what the hell! I met up with this dealer and we went to a strip club and then back to his place."

"This is the first time you're mentioning this strip club," Blaire rolled her eyes. "Not that I even really care about that. I care about the drugs, Tate. I know what they do to you."

"I didn't get high, really."

"I didn't get high, really," Blaire mocked. "What the hell does that mean? That you dipped your toe in and turned back around and left?"

"It was different," He explained. "I felt alive, just like before. But now I don't feel like I need to keep doing lines. I don't have a heart, so it can't race uncontrollably. I don't get sweaty and dizzy and paranoid."

"God, Tate," Blaire muttered as she dropped her head into her hands. "I can't believe you did this. You're gone from this house for less than 24 hours and you're already wrapped up in drugs again."

Tate was silent for a few seconds before peeping, "Are you mad at me?"

Blaire barely managed to speak through her laughter, "You're kidding, right? I'm fucking furious!"

"Don't be mad," Tate piped, his voice cracking.

Blaire couldn't believe it. He was holding back tears. He was such a child. Without her supervision, he managed to get himself in the deepest possible hole… and he'd only been free for a day.

"I figured since you've been stuck here for so long, you'd know how to act like an adult."

"I'm not like you, okay?" Tate burst. "So what if I've been stuck here for decades? I've been stuck HERE, Blaire. While you were jet-setting around the world getting to grow up, I've stayed here. I'm still a kid, Bug."

He was right. We both were dead, but I was years older than he was. His brief monologue was by no means an excuse that would make everything better, but it helped.

"You just can't do this, Tate," Blaire sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"Sometimes sorry doesn't fix things."

Tate launched himself off the bed. Blaire was right behind him. As he bent down to grab the release to the stairs, she grabbed his arm, pulling him back into her.

"Don't," She muttered.

"Why?" Tate exclaimed. "Why?"

"Last time we fought I ended up dead, and you ended up killing 15 people."

Tate's lips curved into a slight smile, though he hid it quickly, "I just want to get out for a little bit."

"No," Blaire said firmly. "You'll end up going back to that shitty crack house. You can't free yourself from one house to get tied down to another."

"I won't."

"I don't believe you," Blaire admitted. "I'm not letting you go."

"You're not my mom," Tate said as he struggled to release himself.

"No, but I am your girlfriend," She replied. "I love you, and I'm not letting you self-destruct again."

"Just let me go!" He yelled. "Let me go, or leave like you did last time!"

"Is that what this is about?" Blaire whispered.

She dropped Tate's arm, but he didn't leave. He stood and stared at her. His black eyes were so sad, but they shot through her like daggers.

"No."

"It is too," Blaire said. "What's going on, Tate?"

"It's just…" Tate sighed. "At the beach, I realized how perfect everything was. It scared me. For some reason, when I was trapped in this house, it seemed like it would never work- you and me. Yeah, I love you and you love me, but you were going to realize how shitty it is here. Not being strapped down here changed everything."

"Tate," Blaire breathed. "It changes everything for the better."

"I meant it when I said I don't think I'm allowed to be happy."

"Bullshit," Blaire exclaimed. "You don't want to be happy."

"Maybe I don't," He admitted.

"I wish you could see how great you are."

"I'm not."

"You are to me," Blaire said with a weak smile. "Come lie down with me."

She could see Tate wanted to run away, but with a little more coaxing he followed her to the bed. She stripped him slowly and leaned him back into the bed. She climbed into the bed next to him and draped her body partially over his, letting her head lie on his cold, bare chest.

Just as Blaire began to drift, Tate's voice lured her out of the hazy realm.

"I didn't go to any strip club or crack house. I defiantly didn't do any drugs."

Blaire smiled weakly, "Really?"

"Really. I went to a music store, had some coffee, and went to a park."

As Blaire shifted back into the land between Earth and Heaven, she couldn't help but question Tate's actions. She didn't know if he was telling the truth or lying. All she knew is that she wasn't going to let him leave her that easily.


	18. Chapter 18

"Don't you think this is taking you and Violet's little prank war to a new extreme?"

Blaire looked up from one of her Black Magic spell books and rolled her eyes at Tate.

"It isn't a prank war."

"It seems like to Violet it's a prank war and to you it is war."

He was right. So far Violet had done nothing but play annoying pranks on Blaire. She'd hidden a fish in the attic, plastic wrapped Blaire's bed, put shaving cream in a pair of Blaire's boots. School girl pranks.

To Violet's knowledge, Blaire hadn't done anything. Little did she know that the ghost turned witch was testing out her new powers. An insomnia spell that left Violet struggling to stay awake during the day. When she finally did sleep, she was struck with nightmares. Vivid, realistic nightmares. Paired with the limited amount of sleep she was getting, the bad luck spell made the ordeal so much more enjoyable for Blaire. Only minor cases of bad luck, like breaking plates, her laptop crashing, her favorite outfit ripping. Without Violet knowing she was behind it, Blaire had managed to make her life a living hell.

And it was about to get worse.

Blaire had dug up a three nights of hell spell. Three nights of hell spells were historically ancient and infamous spells for wreaking havoc on your enemies. A witch armed with enough hate, a black candle, and a picture of their enemy, she could inflict serious lesions and sores for three nights only, then the spell would be lifted.

The only thing Blaire was missing was the picture. One would think that living in a house with your enemy would make finding her picture easy access, but Violet avoided cameras like the plague. That's where Tate came in. Blaire had ordered him to search through albums for a picture of Violet.

"Hand it over," Blaire nodded.

Tate passed her a glossy school photo of Violet. It looked recent, probably from last year. It was perfect.

Blaire wasted no time. Tate sat at the edge of the bed and watched as Blaire lit the candle and set the picture next to it. She focused all of her energy, all of her hate, on the picture. The spell, which she had memorized, flew out of her in a quick blur.

Magic made Blaire feel human again. It made her feel more than human. She was full of energy and power. Sometimes when she said a spell she could almost leave her body and watch the intense show below her.

After repeating the spell three times a calm hovered over the room for a few seconds. It was followed by a crash, a thud, and a scream downstairs. Blaire raised an eyebrow at Tate before hustling down the two flights of stairs.

Vivien was standing over Violet's body. The body was surrounded by shards of glass. Just as Blaire reached Vivien, Violet's eyes fluttered open.

"Violet!" Vivien cried as she dropped to the floor. "Are you okay?"

"I think so," Violet muttered.

"Do you need to go to the hospital?" Vivien questioned.

"She hasn't been sleeping a lot lately," Blaire offered. "I'm sure she just needs to lie down."

"Yeah, Mom, I don't need to go anywhere. I'm just tired."

"Blaire, I'm going to take her up to her bed. Would you bring up a glass of water?"

Blaire nodded with a sweet smile, "Sure thing."

Her smile faded as she turned and walked into the kitchen. She filled a cup up to the top and fiddled through the medical cabinet. Given Vivien's hatred towards chemicals, she didn't expect to find anything. She'd have to resort to a little bit of witchcraft.

Looking at the glass, she raised a hand and harnessed her powers.

"From this glass that you will drink, find comfort in a restless sleep. Don't open your eyes to blink, till you're finished counting sheep."

"Blaire, what are you doing?"

Blaire jumped and turned. Ben stood in the archway with a raised eyebrow and a gallon of milk.

"I was just getting some water for Violet. She passed out-"

"Is she okay?" He rushed, placing the milk on the counter. "Why aren't they at the hospital?"

"Violet doesn't want to go," Blaire shrugged. "She said she is just tired."

"Here," Ben ushered. "Give me that. I'll take it up to her."

She handed over the glass without a problem. After putting away the milk, she plopped down at the counter. That was a close encounter. Ben knew Blaire dabbled in witchcraft after the cleansing of the house, but he didn't know to what extent. And just now, he almost caught her placing a sleeping spell on his daughter. She'd have to cool it with the public displays of her magic.

Vivien entered the kitchen after a few minutes. She leaned her head back and rubbed her hands on her large stomach.

"You alright?" Blaire asked.

"The babies are kicking," Vivien muttered.

Blaire knew the babies weren't kicking. Only one was. Tate's child. The other was too weak. Ben's child would die soon. She was sure of that. The family didn't need any more heartache. She decided right then and there she needed to do something about the demon spawn inside of Vivien.

She was going to have to take back her promise to not do any more magic for a while. She was going to have to find the perfect combination of herbs and magic to keep the innocent child protected and destroy the damned one.

Some would say the feat was impossible. Blaire didn't know the meaning of that word. She'd turned back time. She'd freed dozens of spirits from a house that didn't want to let go.

This particular task would be a little more difficult, though. Tate couldn't know. He never spoke about the child, but Blaire had a feeling he wanted the child. If he knew she was planning to kill it, he might not let her proceed. Or worse.

Blaire the witch would have to be solo this time around.


	19. Chapter 19

Blaire wasted no time. She knew she'd have to work quickly to save the baby. The other child, Tate's child, could overpower the weaker one at any moment.

She decided to put off going to her new Wiccan bookstore until tomorrow. She had acquired a small library of books on spells, potions, herbs, and history. She'd just have to flip through those until she could get out of the house. She wanted to stay and keep a close eye on Violet's progression.

She headed up to the attic to search through her books. She was almost positive there were no pre-existing spells on killing a fetus and keeping one alive, so she'd have to formulate and test one herself. She'd have to ask someone at the store tomorrow their advice.

"What are you doing?"

Blaire jumped, startled. Tate was sitting at the edge of her bed. She almost forget he was there.

"Just um… I'm just going to read some."

"About what?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Put on the spot, she grabbed the book on the top of her pile, quickly reading the title," Herbs! I need to read about herbs."

Tate nodded slowly, "Okay… Well, I think I'm going to go out for a while. Do you have some money I can borrow?"

She was hesitant at first. She still didn't believe if he was telling the truth about lying about the drugs. But he needed to get out of the house, so she nodded and walked over to her dresser. She had a little bit of money saved up from doing odd jobs around everywhere from New York to Italy. She grabbed two twenties out of her lockbox and handed them over.

Tate thanked her, shoving the money deep in his pocket. He kissed Blaire quickly and disappeared down the stairs. Blaire followed in his footsteps with the herb book and a notepad under her arm.

She plopped down on the couch and began reading. She'd heard of herbal abortions before and knew there were at least a dozen herbs that raised risks of miscarriages when given to a pregnant woman. She also knew half the time they didn't work.

A few pages into her readings she found her first herb: aloe. Commonly used for minor cuts and burns, the herb also causes diarrhea and severe cramps when ingested. It also could cause miscarriages in pregnant women. Blaire didn't want to make Vivien too sick, but she wrote down "aloe" and put a squiggly question mark next to it.

After 45 minutes she had composed a surprising list. She'd barely made a dent in the book. She had no idea there were so many herbs that were dangerous for pregnant women. She had intent to keep going, but her eyes were sore from reading the curvy print of the book, and she already had a decent size list. Maybe she'd end up going to downtown tonight.

Her plans were shot down as she heard a commotion upstairs. It was probably from Violet's room, though Violet should've still been knocked out from the hexed water. Blaire stuffed her book and notepad under a couch cushion and rushed up the stairs to the source of the noise.

Ben and Vivien were standing over Violet's body. The girl was sleeping, but her face looked pained. From the door, Blaire could see the three nights of hell spell had started working. Instead of the feelings of pleasure she'd expected to feel, she felt guilty. Ben and Vivien were distraught over the lesions, bruises, and sores that were covering Violet's body.

"You!" Ben pointed at Blaire. "You have something to do with this."

Blaire's jaw dropped for a few seconds. She had to think of something.

"Maybe," She admitted. "Not intentionally though!"

"What do you mean?" Vivien asked.

"Violet hasn't been getting a lot of sleep lately, so she asked me if I had any herbs that would help her fall asleep. I gave her some Hypericum perforatum this morning. I've used it a dozen times to help me sleep, and I've never had any side effects. It has a negative reaction if you take it and you're in sunlight. I told her not to take it until tonight to make sure she'd be safe."

"Will she get better? Do we have to take her to the hospital?" Vivien rushed.

"No," Blaire said as she shook her head. "Close her curtains and they'll be gone within the hour."

Vivien followed Blaire's instructions while Ben just looked at her with disapproving eyes.

"You can't fix everything with herbs," He said.

"Herbs have been around longer than modern medicine," Blaire fired back. "They're just as effective."

"Just lay off them, okay?"

"Ben! She's being helpful," Vivien intervened. "Besides, you know how I feel about chemicals. I'd prefer to go a more natural route."

"Even if that kills you?" Ben frowned.

"It won't kill you," Blaire cut in. "Chemicals kill you."

"I live in a house full of goddamn hippies!" Ben cursed, storming out of the room.

Vivien gave me a sympathetic look and rubbed my arm before heading in his direction, "I probably should calm him down. Will you make sure those curtains stay closed?"

Blaire checked, though she could see that they were fastened tightly. The room was almost completely dark. Before leaving, she leaned over the bed and whispered in Violet's ear.

"I'm reversing this spell for your mom and dad, not for you. I'd love to see you suffer for three nights with oozing sores, but my relationship with your family is more important to me than my role in this stupid game you started. I'll call it a victory on my part, though."

She crept into the hall. Vivien and Ben were in their roomed, arguing in hushed tones behind a closed door. Blaire made a quick trip downstairs to grab her stuff from under the cushion, and then made a run for the attic. She needed to call off the spell now or the sores would be there all night.

A seven day of hell spell has a particular structure. When initiating the spell, you hold an enemy's photo directly under a candle. You pour some of that wax on the picture to seal the hex. On the end of the third night, you relight the candle and hold the waxed picture up to the flame. The picture is burnt as a reversal spell is recited.

She'd stashed the candle and picture in a dusty storage corner. It still lie there, untouched. Blaire quickly lit the black candle and held the picture to the growing flame. She knew the reversal spell by heart, having memorized it the first time reading through it. She too pride in her ability to remember things so easily.

Once the spell was said and the picture was burnt, Blaire blew out the candle. The picture had burnt, but the flame caught fire to the box she'd been performing the ritual over. She quickly fanned it out. The small room was nearly full of dark smoke. She tripped over her feet trying to escape the mess.

She waited a little over an hour before checking on Violet to make sure everything cleared up. The girl was sore free and sleeping peacefully in her dark room. Blaire informed Ben and Vivien their daughter was all right, and then wandered around the house for a few more hours. She wasn't particularly hungry but ate the meal Vivien prepared.

When she finally was able to get back up to the attic, she wanted to drift between worlds so the morning would come faster. She was ready to get her one fetus miscarriage plan in action.

Blaire was taken aback when she reached the top step. Her room had been transformed.

The only light illuminating the space came from candles. There were enough for her to see the spread of rose petals on the ground by the bed. Music was softly playing, she could barely identify it as Down in a Hole by Alice in Chains. Leave it to Tate to make a bedroom playlist of grunge songs. The room itself smelled like vanilla.

Blaire pulled the stairs up and locked them, then turned and faced Tate, who was sitting on the bed, with a smile.

"What is all this?"

"I thought I'd thank you for being so awesome," He explained. "And all you have to do for me is wear this."

He held up a leopard print satin baby-doll lingerie set. It was trimmed in black lace. From what she could tell, the top had a flyaway slit up the middle of the top.

Blaire smiled sheepishly as she walked towards him, "I figured you'd want me in nothing."

"That comes later."

Blaire started stripping off her clothes, but Tate stood up and stopped her. When she raised an eyebrow up at him, he proceeded to undress her himself. Then he slipped on the lingerie himself, making sure to do so very slowly. Blaire was already shivering under his fingertips.

She let Tate take full control of her body. He gently helped her lie on the bed. Her eyes were hard on him as he stripped down to his tight boxer briefs. He climbed up on the bed himself, straddling her. Out of nowhere, he pulled out a bottle of oil.

Blaire wasn't sure what to expect. She defiantly didn't expect him to push aside the top and dribble a little of the cool oil on her skin. He started to massage it into her soft flesh. After a while she wasn't sure if the touch on her skin was his hands or lips.

Tate was making her feel something she'd never felt before. It wasn't only physical pleasure but emotional pleasure. She'd decided right then and there that she loved him more than she ever had. The two were made for each other. She'd stand by his side forever and a day. She'd defend him against any person or thing at any cost.


	20. Chapter 20

Panpipes Magical Marketplace was the go to place for anything involving magic in Los Angeles. Run by two notable and famous master practitioners, Vicky Adams and Jymie Darling, the store not only sold nearly everything, it also offered classes.

The first time Blaire visited Panpipes, she was immediately approached by Jymie. Before Blaire could say anything, the woman with fiery red hair called her out on being a ghost, and pulled her aside. After showing her to Vicky, the two closed the place for the rest of the day to give them all an opportunity to speak privately.

They explained to Blaire that as a human, she was a witch. She did not pick up the skill in the afterlife from the mysterious old woman at the disappearing shop. It was in her the entire time. Being a ghost accelerated the learning process. It was also why she could so easily channel her energy into other people to achieve larger spells.

She began to rely on them for all of her magical needs, and even considered them her friends.

However, today when she walked into the store, she didn't plan on sharing too many friendly words. She quickly sought out Jymie.

"Hey!" Jymie smiled. "How is this lovely Tuesday treating you?"

"I need help," Blaire said flatly. "Can we talk… alone?"

Jymie looked around the store before giving a small nod. She ushered Blaire past the front counter and the rich purple curtain that led to the back office spaces. They sat down on a worn leather couch. Blaire pulled out her list of miscarriage inducing herbs.

"What is this?" Jymie questioned. "While I encourage natural routes for everything, I don't necessarily encourage herbal abortions. They can be dangerous. Who is pregnant?"

"I'll explain it all in a second. I just need you to listen to me, okay?"

"Blaire, what did you get yourself into?"

"Just promise me you'll listen."

Jymie gave a worried look, but sighed and nodded, "Okay."

"I told you about the family I'm living with- The Harmons. I also told you about Tate. A few months ago he… Tate… he raped Mrs. Harmon. Earlier that day, she was intimate with her husband. She's pregnant with twins, and it turns out that each child has a different dad. It's some weird, medical rarity. I'm sure you know the severity of a child born from a ghost and a human. It will surely be the downfall of humanity. I can't tell Vivien this. She'd go nuts. I need to get rid of the baby. Just the damned one. Not only is it a harm to the world, it's a harm to the other child. It is taking its strength from Ben's child. If I don't do something soon, the weaker baby will die."

"So…"

"So, I need to know if there is a way to harness the miscarriage powers of herbs and make them only abort one fetus."

Jymie leaned back and rubbed her cheek, "I've never heard of anything happening like that before. I don't even know if it's possible, to be honest."

"You're much more talented and experienced than I am, Jymie. I need you to help me. This isn't something that relates to just me. The entire future could be at risk here."

"I understand that, Blaire. I just don't know."

"I thought maybe if we charm some herbs so that only the assumed evil child will be aborted, I could slip it into Vivien's food."

"I don't necessarily agree with poisoning someone without their knowledge, but in this circumstance… I think it's the only plausible route to take. As for charming the herbs- it might work. I think we should test some things out before we give anything to Mrs. Harmon."

"I agree. I don't want anything to happen to her," Blaire said.

"Give me three days. I'll work on spells and potions. I'll use the alley rats to test the combinations."

"I hope three days is enough," Blaire mused.

"It's going to have to work. I'll contact you as soon as I know more about the case."

"Thank you so much, Jymie. I owe you the biggest favor," Blaire said as she stood up.

"One more thing- don't tell Vicky."

Blaire nodded, "My lips are sealed."

She hurried out of the store before Vicky could even spot her. On the ride back to the house she couldn't help but wonder if she was doing the right thing. She knew she was, but losing one of the babies would destroy Viv. She just hoped in the three day time slot Jymie allotted herself Vivien wouldn't give birth. She would be a few months early, but it's an entirely plausible situation. The stronger baby would have to nearly completely developed.

As much as she wanted to work on the spell when she got home, she had to leave the business in Jymie's hands. She was more talented. Blaire didn't want to risk hurting Vivien. So instead she flipped through a Psychology magazine Ben had left out on the coffee table.

Blaire was only a one article in when she heard something from behind her.

"Hey."

She cocked her head back. Violet was standing with her arms crossed.

"Well don't you look better!" Blaire grinned.

"Oh yeah," She shrugged. "I feel better. I didn't have any nightmares."

"All you need is one good night to get back into the swing of things."

"My Dad said something about you giving me something to help me fall asleep. I don't remember that ever happening…"

Blaire tried to keep smiling, "Are you sure? You were exhausted, so I doubt you remember much of anything."

Violet rubbed her lips together slowly, in thought. Blaire could sense that she was about to say something. Instead of saying what was on her mind, she turned and walked out of the room. Whatever it was about, she was sure it wasn't good.

Shrugging the incident off, Blaire went back to reading the magazine. She tried to concentrate on the words, but everything ran together. The more she tried, the more she felt disoriented. Her center was off. Her vision blurred, her insides were in knots, and her mind was going in every direction.

She pushed herself up from the couch, tossing the magazine down next to her. Stumbling up the stairs, she tripped over her bare feet. She couldn't tell up from down. She couldn't tell left from right.

"Blaire?"

It was too fuzzy for her to see anything, but she could identify it as Tate's voice.

"Hold on!" He rushed, panicked. "I'm coming down!"

She heard a rush of footsteps and then felt his arms around her, pulling her up against his body. He struggled to hold her for a second before gaining his composure. She felt herself being lifted into the bed.

"What happened, Bug?" He pressed.

"Don't… Everything… is… Get…Vicky."

"Who's Vicky?" Tate questioned.

"Panpipes," Blaire mumbled as she drifted out of consciousness.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm re-reading these, I'm like, fascinated/appalled at the complete Mary-Sue-ness of Blaire. Also, I guess I just got wild and decided to make witches a thing. Sorry.

Blaire woke with a jolt. She gasped for breath. The air didn't want to stay inside. She felt herself slipping away again.

"Blaire! Blaire! Calm down. Take deep breaths. Come on, I know you can do it."

It was Vicky, luring her back into a realm of sanity. She opened her eyes to see the sweet faced brunette wearing a worried look. Vicky passed her a steaming cup. Suddenly feeling parched, she slurped up the herbal remedy. Once the warm liquid seeped into her bones, she looked around. Vicky sat to her left, Tate to her right. Jymie sat with her legs curled at the end of the bed.

"What's happening?" Blaire coughed.

"Your body was fighting your powers," Vicky explained. "The struggle between the spiritual presence and the magic exploded. It knocked you out."

"How long was I sleeping?" Blaire questioned.

"Three days," Tate muttered.

Blaire's eyes grew wide, "What? What did you tell Ben and Viv? And the b-"

"It's brilliant, actually," Jymie said with a smile. "Your boyfriend stumbled into the store all crazy and panicked. Vicky and I closed up shop when he started talking about you. We threw a bunch of random things into a bag and came over here… practically haven't left since."

"But-"

"You're so eager. Calm down," Vicky trickled.

"I suggested we text Ben," Tate mumbled. "From your phone, of course, and tell him you decided to go San Francisco for a few days with friends. He'll text you from time to time to check in on you, and we text him back."

"I'm really confused," Blaire confessed.

"Us too," Jymie admitted.

"We did some research," Vicky followed. "A lot of research, actually."

"Witches and ghosts have existed since the beginning of time. That's a well-known fact. What is less known is that there is a rare form of witch-ghost hybrids that exist. When a witch dies before they acknowledge their powers, their ghost cannot ascend. The spirit will somehow find their way to their powers. For a while, they exist as both spirit and witch. Then… then there is a fight for dominance. Both are strong, and neither can overpower the other. The vessel collapses, and when it comes back, it is transformed into a being that is both ghost and witch."

"Isn't that what I am right now? I'm a ghost that is a witch."

"Not the same," Jymie said. "A ghost that is a witch and a ghost-witch hybrid are not the same. Before, you were a spirit that casted spells and made potions. Now you are a combination. You exist in both realms."

"I don't see what the difference is," Blaire shrugged.

"You won't," Vicky confessed. "For a while, at least."

"And then what?"

"Then," Jymie said. "Then get to experience The Ultimate. It is that place you go to when you drift, what humans call sleeping and dreams. It is a world where all the great hybrids go."

"I don't understand," Tate said. "She isn't leaving me, is she?"

He reached out and grabbed my hand.

"Oh!" Jymie exclaimed. "No. Not at all. The opposite. She will be a messenger. It's an honor."

"What if I don't want that?" Blaire asked. "I don't want to be some... some idol! I don't want to be a messenger. I want to be a ghost. That's all."

"Not possible," Jymie shrugged. "It's been done."

"You've been chosen," Vicky added.

Blaire looked at Tate with deep, sad eyes. She squeezed his hand tighter. He offered her a smile.

"You'll always come back to me," He muttered under his breath.

"Always," Blaire smiled.

"The worst part of the transformation is over," Jymie cut in. "But you will experience some mild episodes. You won't pass out for days on time, but you will feel some pain every now and then."

"I feel like I'm being diagnosed to death," Blaire said. "But I'm already dead."

"It's not supposed to be a bad thing, I think," Tate offered.

"Like I said, it's an honor," Jymie gave. "A blessing among both ghosts and witches."

Blaire was growing irritated with their remarks. She didn't feel like the goddess they were making her out to be. She was a ghost. She killed herself. She stole for years to provide for herself. She lied. She cheated. She murdered a man. And what? Now she was being honored for it all.

To get them to leave her alone, she put on a smile and pretended to accept the whole ordeal.

"Thanks for taking care of me," She said after a long second. "I really appreciate it. But I probably should um, get downstairs and tell everyone I'm back."

"We get the hint that it's our time to get out," Vicky laughed. "Don't stop coming to the shop because you are all powerful now. We'd miss seeing your face."

They both rose from their spots on the bed. Vicky disappeared into a corner where she began packing up a small tote. Jymie lingered for a few moments before coming close to Blaire. She leaned down close. Her hands moved quickly as she pressed a vile into Blaire's body.

"It was really hard for me to test this with Vicky around. Thankfully there are rats in this building. I've got it perfect. The remedy is inside along with a piece of piece of parchment with the spell. You'll need to read the spell before putting the potion in Vivian's food. She'll be sick for a few hours while the weak baby gets stronger, and then she'll go into labor."

Blaire smiled, "Thank you so much."

"Don't mention it. After all, you practically own my entire being now."

"Jymie, come on!" Vicky called out softly. "We need to leave before they see us."

"All right. Hold your suspenders."

She gave a smile and went to Vicky's side. They lowered and disappeared down the steps. Tate looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"What did she say?"

"Nothing," Blaire rushed. "She was just congratulating me and stuff. The usual bullshit you get when you, as a ghost, become a witch, and then transform into some sort of creepy hybrid high goddess in another realm."

Tate laughed, then leaned over and kissed me, "Who would've ever guessed you and I would be like Price William and Kate Middleton?"

"I didn't know you read gossip rags," Blaire grinned.

"Well, I don't," Tate flushed. "Not usually. Sometimes they're just… there… and it gets boring."

Blaire cupped his face and kissed him softly before unfolding her legs and sliding off the bed. She kept the vile tight against her palm as she walked over to the closet. She set the vile on the windowsill ledge and pulled some clothes off hangers.

"So, did you do a good job of pretending to be me so the family didn't get suspicious?"

"Yeah," Tate nodded. "I think so."

She got dressed quickly and shoved the vile into her pocket. Emerging from the room, she went to the vanity where she pulled her hair into a tight bun. She strutted over to Tate and kissed him before saying,

"I'm going downstairs. Don't leave me, okay?"

"Why would you ever think something like that?" He breathed against her skin.

"I just like to hear you say you won't."

She stumbled down the stairs and followed the house's noises to the kitchen. There, Vivian busied herself over a stove. Ben sat at the island sipping a cup of wine. Violet sat next to him, busy texting on her phone.

"Hi!" Blaire grinned. "I'm back."

Viv turned with a smile, "Just in time for dinner! Sit, sit! Tell us all about your little trip."

Dinner already? Blaire hadn't had time to look over spell or look at the herbs. She didn't know how to deliver it to Vivian. She graced herself from the table.

"Can it wait like, 2 minutes? I really need to use the bathroom."

She disappeared into the hallway bathroom. She quickly looked at the mixture. It'd be easy enough to slip into whatever she made for dinner. The spell also was easy enough to memorize. She put it back into her pants pocket and flushed the toilet, then sauntered back into the kitchen.

"Sorry!" She apologized. "It was a long drive back."

"It's fine," Ben shrugged. "Nature calls, I guess."

"Here, Viv. Let me help you out."

"You just got back! You don't need to cook."

"I insist," Blaire smiled, linking herself to Vivian's side. "I love cooking. You've got a growing bump. Sit, sit."

She sighed and agreed, grabbing her mug of herbal tea as she went. Blaire swiftly took over and spoke fluently.

"San Francisco was great. If you haven't been there in a while, you defiantly need to go. It's beautiful and busy and just… great."

Blaire was no stranger to the area. She'd been there when she was younger and then after she died.

"Maybe we can go when they babies are born," Vivian suggested.

"For sure."

"This is almost finished," Blaire muttered over the plates. She opened up the vile.

"So what did you and your friends do?" Ben asked.

She coughed out a laugh, "It's kind of embarrassing. We went to a, um, a burlesque show."

Violet laughed, "Nice!"

"We went to the theater, too! It wasn't all… bad."

"Burlesque, wow," Ben chuckled.

"Ben and I went to one of those."

Vivian's recounting of her and Ben's wild night show was Blaire's perfect opportunity to dip into the vile. She added the herbs to a portion of mashed potatoes and muttered,

"Child born of vengeful sin, you are the stronger twin. Not for long will you survive, the other baby will now thrive. Your presence is not welcome, now leave thy mum."

She grabbed Viv's plate, as well as Ben's, and slid them onto the island. Then she grabbed the other two and sat down next to Violet. They began eating and Blaire said.

"I really didn't know you guys were into that kind of stuff."

"You're only young once," Vivian shrugged, spooning the potatoes into her mouth.

Blaire carried on the conversation, making sure Vivian ate every bit of her meal. She was mesmerized by the movement of the spoon. She hoped she was making the right decision.


	22. Chapter 22

"Can't this car go any faster?"

Vivian's screams echoed off the car doors, ricocheting in every direction. From the driver's seat, Ben was frantic, though he tried acting controlled.

"I'm going five over the speed limit, sweetheart! We'll be really late if we get pulled over."

"I feel like my body is splitting in half!"

"Just take deep breaths, Mom," Violet tried to say calmly.

"When you are literally being torn apart, Violet, I'll be sure to tell you the same thing!"

"Don't say anything else," Blaire murmured under her breath.

The next 17 minutes in the car were the longest 17 minutes of not only Blaire's life, but Ben and Violet's as well. Vivian wasn't even trying to mask her screams.

The hospital wasn't any more enjoyable. In the still moments of 3 AM, it was quiet. That was, until The Harmon heard arrived. Vivian's screams matched more of a tortured woman than a woman giving birth. Though… they were practically the same thing.

The white hospital setting seemed to intensify the sounds. With Ben by her side, Vivian cursed her natural birth as sweat seeped from her body. Violet and Blaire stood at the sidelines, both mortified and intrigued. Every now and then they'd alternate taking peeks around the doctor's head to view the birth.

As soon as the first child came out it was whisked away, protected by nurses hidden behind pastel masks. A few tired, labored breaths later, the second came out. This one, too, was carried away. It was apparent that something was wrong. The medical professionals shared hushed murmurs as they huddled over the babies. With Ben preoccupied tending to Vivian's needs, Violet and Blaire were the only two left to notice there was only one tiny cry.

It only took a few more moments for two nurses to quickly usher Violet and Blaire out of the room. They gave words of customary practice. They said everything would be okay. But from the waiting room, Blaire and Violet knew something was wrong.

Blaire knew that only one child would be alive. She didn't expect things to be so… emotional. So hard.

She wanted so desperately to see the baby. She wanted to know if it was Ben's. And if it was Tate's, she needed to think of a way to fix the problem.

But she couldn't think of that. She couldn't think of the babies. She couldn't think of good vs. evil. All she could think of was how miserable Vivian would be when she found out one of the babies died. How heartbroken Ben would be. How Violet would feel when she found out she'd have only one baby brother to look over.

Time passed slowly. The minutes felt like hours. The hours felt like days. Violet and Blaire sat in a painful silence. Blaire hated clichés, but now she understood why they existed. And when Ben stepped into the waiting room, the double doors swinging behind him, time seemed to stop.

He approached Violet and Blaire with a twisted expression.

"Dad!" Violet hopped to her feet. "Is everything okay?"

"Not exactly," Ben coughed.

"The babies?" Blaire questioned.

"Only, um… only one survived the birth."

Violet's face fell and she retreated into a shell. Blaire knew it was coming, but it still hurt. Her family had gained and lost a new member. She didn't care if it was Ben's baby or Tate's baby. She just wanted everything to be okay.

Blaire didn't remember much about the next few hours. She hadn't had trouble ever remembering things since her death. The afterlife gave her a superb memory. Maybe the cloudiness was because she was a weird hybrid thing that she really didn't understand yet. Or maybe it was because her family ached, and she wanted to ache with them.

The moment Blaire could remember was when the doctor came in with a small blue bundle. He passed it to Vivian slowly. Everyone's breath caught as they watched the mother accept the surviving child. For Blaire, it was the moment of truth.

She expected to see Tate's face giving her a wicked grin. She expected his big black eyes to look at her with dark innocence. She expected to see a tuft of bright blonde hair.

Instead…. Instead she saw a tiny baby with Vivian's greenish blue eyes and Ben's jet black hair.

"Mrs. Harmon, have you guys settled on a name?"

Ben and Vivian shared a blissful exchange. Ben gave his wife a nod and she looked at the nurse, who appeared out of nowhere.

"Ryder. Ryder Lee Harmon."

Blaire smiled. The name was beautiful. It fit the little man perfectly. Ryder Lee. There was toughness in the name, as well as a hint of warmth.

Blaire excused herself after a few moments. For the first time in decades she actually felt thirsty. Her mouth felt like the Grand Canyon. She found a crumbled up dollar in her pocket and stumbled through the halls.

She went looking for a vending machine and found Constance and Tate.

Constance looked like a street rat behind a diner as she got her hands on a piece of old meat. Tate wore a sour expression, keeping a good distance between him and his birth giver.

"Blaire! Is my grandson okay?" Constance pounced.

"My son," Tate whispered. "Bug, is my son okay?"

"I told you to leave this family alone, Constance."

"Well, this pertains to my family too."

"You don't wish harm upon your family," Blaire muttered.

"Tell that to my son, why don't you. He'll listen to you."

"Leave me alone," Tate hissed.

Blaire stepped in between the two. She was glad their foul moods could ruin one of the most sentimental moments of her entire existence.

"He's dead. He's dead, okay? I'm sorry Tate, but your spawn wasn't strong enough. It wasn't meant to be. And Constance, did you think you were going to get him if he did survive? You're damned to live alone. Hell on Earth. Now if you don't leave my family alone, I will not shy away from doing what I said I would do."

Constance let out a weak cry, "It's impossible!"

"It's very possible," Blaire hissed. "Now leave. Tate, come with me."

With Tate on her heels, Blaire dipped down a hallway. She spotted a vending machine and rushed to it, fumbling to press the buttons.

Tate was mute. Blaire wasn't even sure she wanted to hear what he had to say. She wasn't sure if she could pretend to be sad when it was her fault.

"Bug…"

His voice made her heart break. The hopelessness, the despair.

"I'm sorry Tate," Blaire finally said. Her hands squeezed the bottle of water tightly. "I'm sorry. I don't know what you want me to do."

"Give me a hug?" He squeaked.

As Blaire wrapped her arms tight around him, she felt so… horrible. She felt as evil as the realm beneath her feet.

"I love you so much, Bug," He whispered against her neck.

"I love you too, sweetheart," She mocked.

She was superficial. She was weak.

"Maybe… Maybe one day we can have that, you know? Maybe one day we can have a family."

"Tate," Blaire muttered. "We're dead."

"I know. Can we just pretend? Just for a few minutes?" He sobbed.

She held Tate so tight against her body she was sure he'd seep into her bones. She let out a few tears and a muffled hiccup of a sob. She wanted to let herself think she was crying because the love of her life had lost something precious to his heart. She wanted to think it was because she was dead. She wanted to think it was because she'd never have a family of her own. Deep down in her heart she knew it was because she hurt the one person that knew everything about her- all of her secrets, fears, freckles.

"Someday," She said softly.

That someday would never come.


	23. Chapter 23

"Ryder! Ryder! Look at Auntie Blaire!"

Ryder followed Blaire's voice. His face lit up with joy. He was now three months old, so it wasn't too hard to make him smile. His legs pumped with excitement.

"Hi, baby boy! Your Mommy said you've been fussy today."

"Fussy is an understatement," Vivian sighed, walking into the room. "How was work today?"

Since the baby's birth, Blaire started working at Panpipes. She knew the family planned to move to Florida when Ryder was old enough. She wanted to go with them, but she and Tate couldn't shack up with Vivian's sister. Panpipes was the perfect outlet. And it was about to get better.

"Great. Um, Vicky and Jymie want me to run a shop in Florida."

Vivian's face lit up, "Wow! That's great, Blaire!"

"I told them I'd think about it."

"Why? You love magic and Panpipes."

"I just want to spend time with the family. I can work later."

"Blaire," Vivian sighed, rubbing the girl's back. "We love you. You know that. But it's time for you to explore your own destiny. I want you to experience everything you possibly can."

Blaire's destiny was to rot on Earth as a ghost. Or it was. Now she was a hybrid. The Ultimate had plans for her. She still wasn't sure what they are. And as far as experiencing things… Blaire had experienced enough for five lifetimes.

"Okay," Blaire sighed with a smile. "I'll do it."

"Don't sound so depressed about it! It's going to be great. You better tell them to get the ball rolling. Ben and I were going to tell you this at dinner, but you worked late. There is a buyer for the house lined up. We're moving in a few weeks!"

"A family?" Blaire questioned.

"A committee, actually. They're making the house into a museum. I'm not too sad about it after all that has happened here."

Blaire nodded, "Wow."

"I know! Oh, we put a plate in the fridge for you."

"I've actually had a long day. I'm going to call it a night. See you in the morning, okay?"

Blaire said goodbye to Ryder and trekked up to the attic. She barely had the energy to change into her pajamas and fall into bed.

"Hey," He smiled, reaching an arm out to rub her back.

"We're moving," She mumbled into the pillow.

"What?"

"The house is being turned into a museum, and we're moving to Florida."

Tate flipped Blaire over so he could look her in the eyes. He kept his arms on hers as he spoke,

"We can't go, Bug. We've got to stay here. The house could be ours."

"No, Tate," Blaire sighed. "The house wouldn't be ours. There would always be people here."

"What about your job?"

"Vicky and Jymie want to open a new store. They think Florida would be a perfect place, and I would be the perfect manager."

Tate's eyes lit up, "Wow."

"I know. Viv wants me to do it."

"Do you want to do it?" He questioned.

Blaire nodded, and with all honesty she said, "I do."

He kissed her softly, "I guess we're moving then."

"Maybe you could help me out at the store. I mean, you aren't a Chosen One or whatever, but you're pretty cute."

Tate laughed, "Cute enough to win over someone as special as you."

"You didn't have to win me over. I've always been yours."

"Blaire?"

It was Ben. His voice was close- at the bottom of the stairs. Not a second later, she heard footsteps. Her eyes grew wide as she looked at Tate.

"Disappear!" She whispered.

Tate shot her an angry look before disappearing before her eyes.

"Blaire?" Ben said again, hitting the top step. "I heard you talking to someone."

"I was on the phone," Blaire lied.

Ben sat on the edge of the bed, "With Tate?"

"Maybe," Blaire muttered.

"Blaire," Ben sighed. "He isn't a good person."

"But he is!" Blaire jumped to defend Tate. "He just has layers. He isn't all that bad once you get to know him."

"I got to know more of him than I wanted to," Ben commented.

"I appreciate your concern, Ben, but I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

He nodded, "Anyway- I didn't come up here to talk to you about boys. Vivian told me about how you were going to open up a store in Florida?"

"Sort of. I'd be running it for Jymie and Vicky."

"There is a lot of distance between California and Florida. You'd basically be by yourself doing it."

Blaire bit her lip and asked, "Do you think I can do it?"

Ben smiled warmly, "Of course you can do it, Blaire. I may not have always supported the magic, but I will always support you. As far as I'm concerned, I have three children. You saved my family- our family. You're a wonderful girl."

"Thank you," Blaire whispered, her breath caught.

"Well," Ben announced as he stood. "I just wanted to come up and tell you how proud I was that you were starting a business in Florida. You'll have a place to stay there, too. Vivian's sister has a big house."

"I actually think I'm going to get my own apartment. I have some money saved up."

Ben raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure? Living on your own is expensive."

"I know," Blaire smiled. "I just think it's the next step for me. It wouldn't be too far. I couldn't separate myself from you guys… especially Ryder."

"The room will be there if you change your mind. See you in the morning, Blaire."

She followed him across the room, bidding him a goodnight. Once he cleared the hallway and she heard his bedroom door shut, she pulled up the stairs and locked them tight. She climbed back into her bed and pulled the covers tight over her body.

"Tate?" She called out.

He appeared next to her with a grin and a raised eyebrow, "Hey, Bug."

If appearing next to her wasn't something he did often, she would've been startled out of bed and onto the floor. She returned his smile.

"Cuddle with me."

He let out an exhausted sigh, "I don't know, man. I've got some really important meetings to go to."

"Oh, really?" She questioned.

He wiggled out of his jeans and under the covers, "Yeah. I'm giving a presentation on why my girlfriend is so perfect."

"I'd like to hear about that one," She said as she snuggled against him.

"Well, she's adorable. Gorgeous, actually. She's smart, funny, charismatic… Not to mention she's a very special type of hybrid."

"Go on," Blaire giggled.

"She loves me even though I'm not perfect. She comforts me when I don't think I can live with myself anymore. She makes me smile without doing anything. We can just lie in bed all day, and I'll be happy. There are a thousand more things I'm not telling them."

"Why's that?"

"I don't want them to fall in love with you," He murmured against her skin.

She kissed his lips, "You're my everything, Tate."

"Did you really mean what you said to Ben? About getting an apartment?"

"I'm not going to live with them for the rest of eternity," Blaire responded. "Besides, I want to be able to make love to you on every surface in every room."

"I knew you had alternative reasons," He chuckled.

"I think it'd be nice. We could pretend that we were normal."

"Maybe get a cat," He suggested.

"Maybe," Blaire laughed.

They laid in a comfortable silence for a while. Tate eventually began to drift. Blaire was exhausted from a long day at Panpipes, but she couldn't help but think of her future with Tate. They had forever. Literally. She wasn't nervous or scared anymore. She was ready.

Trying not to wake Tate, she grabbed her phone from the stand next to her bed.

I'll do it. Talk about plans tomorrow when I get to the store?

At the hospital, Tate told her he wanted a family. Maybe that would happen after all. Maybe.


	24. Chapter 24

"Where the hell is Hunter's Creek, Florida?"

Blaire shot Jymie a look over her coffee cup, "Google exists for a reason."

"But you're sitting across from me," She whined.

"It's like, a half our outside of Orlando."

"Thank the Heavens," Vicky sighed. "All of the properties we've looked at are in Orlando. We were worried you were moving to Miami or something."

"So you've looked at places?"

Vicky nodded, "We settled on Orlando about a year ago. We started looking for a location right away. We've got it narrowed down to a spot down the road from The Florida Mall and a place that a little farther away from central Orlando, but closer to the theme park."

"You'll get good exposure either place," Blaire said.

"We just want it to be perfect."

"Well that adds a whole lot of pressure on me," Blaire muttered.

Jymie laughed, "With a hybrid running the store, I'm sure it'll be perfect. The area is dying for a new occult store. We're going to give them one with royalty running it."

"You're just using me for my title!" Blaire joked.

"That's defiantly it," Vicky smiled. "Anyway. We can't keep both places, and since you accept our offer, we're going to fly down tomorrow to make a final decision and meet with our contractor."

"And… you want me to look over the store."

"It's good practice!" Jymie sang.

"We aren't usually busy on Wednesdays. We'll also pay you double."

"Done!" Blaire said eagerly. "I need to save as much as I can. Tate and I are going to get an apartment together when we move."

"That's a big step," Jymie commented.

"We've been through a lot together. We died for each other. And we basically do live together now."

"Except he has to hide from Ben," Vicky added.

"That really isn't healthy," Jymie chimed in.

"I know. We were in bed last night and Ben started to come up the stairs. I made Tate leave, and he got so angry. I had to lie and tell Ben I was on the phone and then he gave me a whole dad lecture on how Tate wasn't a good person."

"I don't know how that man doesn't realize you two are ghosts," Vicky said. "It's pretty obvious."

"I think I do a pretty good job of playing human."

"An apartment will defiantly help with that."

Blaire smiled, "Tate and I are thinking about getting a cat."

"Precious!" Jymie cooed. "I don't care what anyone says; you two are the perfect couple, alive or not."

The day droned on. The shop was unusually busy, and it kept Blaire's mind off of things. The store closed at its normal time. Blaire often relied on Jymie for a ride home, but tonight both owners were staying late to get everything in order for their trip. Blaire decided to stay with them. Stocking books off the clock was better than taking the bus and walking two blocks home.

Blaire was busy putting the new shipment of books on Norse gods and goddesses on the shelf when she felt a tight cramp in her stomach. It took her off guard- she hadn't gotten cramps in years. She was dead, after all. She worked through the pain until it grew more intense. It spread throughout her body, sending shockwaves from her toes to the top of her head.

"Vicky! Jymie!" She screamed.

It was too late. The pain sent her to the floor. She blacked out, but her mind didn't wander. She heard Jymie and Vicky try to shake her awake. As much as she tried, she could not get her eyes open. She could not move her muscles. She was frozen.

A rushing noise slurped in her ears. A few seconds later, she was standing upright. But she wasn't in Panpipes anymore. She wasn't in Los Angeles. Hell, she wasn't sure if she was even on Earth.

Blaire was standing in the middle of an open structure held up by tall marble columns. It reminded her of the Parthenon in Greece. Peering out from the columns, she saw intense colors she'd never seen in her life. Blues and greens so rich they made her feel like she was in a painting. She gained the courage to take a few steps. Though she stayed inside the structure, she had a better view of the area around her. She was on some sort of floating rock. The chunk of rock was covered in luscious green grasses and deep purple flowers. A stream of crystal clear water drew a path around floating island. It seemed to go off the plane, dripping down into space.

"Welcome, Miss Stafford."

Blaire turned in a circle, startled. The voice surrounded her in an echo.

"Who's there?" She called out. "Where am I?"

"I am energy, the creation of power, an Elder of all hybrids."

"This is The Ultimate," Blaire whispered.

"Yes, Miss Stafford."

"Why me? Why now? What do you want with me?"

"So many questions, eager girl."

The voice drifted through the air, bouncing off the columns and back to her body. It seeped into her bones. It continued,

"It is a shame your mother did not live long enough to teach you the ways. She too was a witch. You look so much like her…"

"Is my mom here?" Blaire questioned. "Is she a hybrid?"

"Before you were born, she was a very powerful being. She was in line to be a hybrid. But when she gave birth to you, all of her powers drained. They went to you. She did not know you retained her powers, so she never told you of them. It was not until your afterlife that you discovered these powers, thus transcending you into a hybrid state."

Blaire had let herself believe her mom was alive and well in this surreal world. She let herself believe it long enough that when the voice told her the truth, her heart cracked a little.

"I don't understand what you want me to do."

"You are a messenger, young Blaire. We will send you information to share with your fellow brothers and sisters. You will console us when there is a problem on the Earthly plane. You are a peacekeeper, retaining balance between good and evil, the immortals and mortals."

"I still don't understand," Blaire sighed, frustrated.

"You will one day. Goodbye, Miss Stafford."

Blaire's body was hit with a strong gust of wind. It knocked her off her feet and pushed her out of the marble structure. She drifted over the richly colored grasses and flowers. She drifted pass the edges of the still streams. And when she saw she was heading towards the edge of the rock, she grew panicked. She was being thrown into a realm of nothingness. She tried to grab onto something. All she got was air.

She was falling. She could see the floating island. The marble columns disappeared out of sight. Blaire felt sick to her stomach. She was going to fall forever through an empty, blue void.

Bam.

She collided with the ground… or something, but her body felt no pain. And when she opened her eyes, Jymie and Vicky were staring at her with concerned eyes.

"Blaire!" Vicky exclaimed. "Are you okay?"

"What happened?" Jymie pressed.

"I-I went to The Ultimate," Blaire coughed.

Both women's eyes grew wide. Blaire saw a swirl of emotions in them. She could see they had just as many questions as she did.

"What was it like? Did you see the Elders?" Jymie rushed.

"It was beautiful," Blaire sighed, remembering the world she just inhabited. "The colors were so vibrant. It was so surreal."

"The Elders," Vicky said.

"I didn't meet them… I think. One spoke to me."

"This is so exciting! We've never met a hybrid who's encountered an Elder before," Jymie squealed.

"Calm down," Vicky said. "Give the girl some room. She's confused and scared."

"Thanks," Blaire mumbled. "Can you just, um… take me home? I really don't know what happened. I don't know how to process it."

"Sure thing," Jymie said, smiling sweetly.

Back at the house, Blaire was quiet. It was late, but Vivian was up feeding Ryder. She could see the light on in Ben's study. Music drifted out of Violet's room. Up in the attic, Tate was nowhere to be found. Blaire was almost happy he wasn't there. She didn't want to talk about her evening. She climbed into bed, exhausted. It didn't take long for her to start drifting. Instead of drifting through exotic landscapes and dancing on fluffy clouds, Blaire went to a place she hadn't been in a long time.

She went to her childhood house. She went to see her mom one last time.


	25. Chapter 25

Blaire slid into the driver's side of the SUV. The backseat of the vehicle was stuffed with her things. There wasn't a lot, but her clothes spilled over the leather seat. Tate emerged from the house with a tiny bag. He smiled as he walked to the car and plopped into the passenger seat. He haphazardly threw the bag in the backseat with Blaire's things.

The house was empty now. The for sale sign was marked with bold red letters saying the house was off the market. Ben, Vivian, Violet, and Ryder had left the day before for Florida. Their house was packed into a long U-Haul truck and on the way with a professional mover. Blaire was in charge of driving the family vehicle down. Unknown to the family, she was bringing Tate along for the ride.

"Is it weird leaving?" She asked, noticing he was staring at the house.

"Yeah," He muttered.

"Are you nervous?"

"I think you've been reading too many of Ben's psychology books," He remarked.

"I just want to make sure you're okay!"

"I'm fine. I promise," He smiled. "Now let's get going."

Blaire decided to plan a mini-trip on the way to Florida. It would extend the drive the amount of time to get there, but it would be so much easier on her. Plus, Tate had never been outside California before. She was excited to show him the southern part of the United States.

"We've got a six hour drive to The Grand Canyon," She said as she backed out of the driveway.

Out of the corner of my eye, she could see Constance standing alone at the edge of her lawn, staring at the car. She was hoping Tate didn't notice.

"I'm glad to be leaving that," He mumbled as he stared out the window.

She knew he was talking about Constance.

"Don't think about it."

"It isn't that easy," He trailed off.

Blaire turned up the music. She'd traveled by plane, train, boat- anything she could get to without having to pay. Free travel meant she never had to drive out of state, which made her very nervous for the upcoming few days. However, she was armed with Ben's GPS.

City streets turned into highways. The California scenery slowly turned to Arizona scenery. Blaire and Tate drove the six hours straight, stopping once to refill the gas in the vehicle.

Blaire had loved watching Tate's reaction to the changing scenery around them. But when they arrived at the Grand Canyon, she too was transformed into a small child as she viewed the powerful landscape.

Their senses were overwhelmed. The fresh air was a pleasant change from muggy LA. The sweeping view of the dramatic rock and river was awe inspiring. The sensation only heightened when they decided to venture out onto the new Grand Canyon Skywalk.

They were standing on a platform made of glass. On one side of them, the rim of the canyon was only a few dozen feet away. On the other, it was a few miles away. Beneath their feet there was…. Nothing. Nothing but a large drop until the bottom of the canyon. It was an attack on the senses that felt like a dream.

Standing near the edge of the platform, Tate pulled Blaire tightly against his body. A lash of wind cut through the air, whipping their hair around in a choreographed dance. Blaire reached up and pushed her hair out of her face, then smiled at Tate.

"You look gorgeous," Tate mumbled.

"After a six hour drive? Nah," Blaire laughed.

He kissed her softly, "You're a liar."

"And you're charming," She replied.

Tate rubbed her arms. He cradled her for a few more seconds before kissing her again, this time on the forehead.

"Let's go. We've still got a long way to go until we get to Florida."

"We're ahead of schedule," Blaire said. "Let's stay here for a little longer."

They stayed on the skywalk platform for a few more minutes before retreating back to car. They stopped at a Wendy's a few minutes down the path for a late lunch. After filling up the car, Blaire and Tate got back on track to Florida. The next stop on their trip was Albuquerque. It was a little after 4. Not wanting to drive all night, they were going to stop before they reached the city.

Travelling on I-40, Tate and Blaire passed through Flagstaff after roughly an hour. Three more hours passed before they crossed the border into New Mexico. They made a mutual decision to stop at the first city the passed through, Gallup.

It was the definition of a desert city, but it was beautiful, never the less. The buildings were adobe and stucco with stunning curved line and neutral colors.

They stopped at a Comfort Inn. Once inside their small, green and beige room, Blaire collapsed backwards onto the bed. Tate climbed up next to her and draped his body over hers, kissing her hard.

"Tate," She said. "I'm really tired from today."

"It's hard to be tired when you're dead," Tate stated.

"You know what I mean."

"I don't," He mumbled against her neck. He nibbled on her skin, sending shivers up and down her body.

"Tate," She sighed, closing her eyes.

He lifted his lips off her cold skin, "Yes?"

"Don't stop," She said, her lips curving up.


	26. Chapter 26

It was a quiet evening on Arnold Street. It always was. The street was lined with houses. The houses were similar, but each one had its own quirks.

Tate and Blaire's house was nestled on the corner. It was small powder blue Victorian style home with scalloped white trim- the complete opposite of the Murder House back in Los Angeles. The front yard was full of bulb like bushes and lush greens. The bay window was a Tate's favorite part of the house. Blaire would often find him there at night, looking out on the illuminated street.

They hadn't always had their perfect home on Arnold Street. When they first arrived to Florida, they had a tiny apartment above a florist shop and a twenty year old hunk of metal for a car. They'd gotten two very convincing fake IDs for legal documents, Tate was Alex Wilson and Blaire was Penny Sampson. Panpipes was barely under construction. They barely had any money. Tate wandered around the city looking for odd jobs that he'd get fired from for his authority problem, while Blaire balanced her time between the new site by the mall and the Harmon's house.

Ben wasn't too happy when Blaire rolled up at Vivian's sisters house with Tate by her side. He was pissed. Beyond angry. He didn't speak to her for over a week. Vivian was mad too, though a little more understanding. Surprisingly, it was Violet that managed to get them to come around. Tate didn't ever show his face around the Harmon's. He was invisible. He was a ghost.

The couple was near the end of their road when Panpipes finally opened. Rent was due, and Blaire had no money left in her bank account. Tate couldn't hold down a job. They were fighting over bills and how they never got to spend time together.

Blaire's career as a messenger to The Ultimate was short lived. While she still remained a hybrid, after failing to stop some sort of unplanned death, she wasn't given too many tasks.

But then the store opened. After spending some time in Florida, Blaire wasn't sure there would be much of a market for the occult. She was surprised when there was actually a large crowd on the first day. She was even more surprised when the crowd was a regular thing. She had to expand her staff of three to six, and even hired Tate.

The store was making money. Blaire was making money. Tate was making money. They worked a lot, but they worked the same shifts. They moved from their shitty apartment to a nicer rental home. The 700 square foot home was a mansion compared to their old place. It was also the perfect place to expand their family.

On one rare day when both Blaire and Tate had the day off, they piled into their sputtering car and drove to the Humane Society. They spent hours with the cats and finally found the missing link to their family.

Jasper. Or as it was spelled on the cage, Jaspurr. He was a year old orange and white mix with one stunning blue eye. The other was permanently shut, as if he was winking. Jasper had developed an ulcer in his left eye when he was a young kitten that left him with limited vision. Blaire and Tate loved him. He was theirs.

They dipped into their savings for a new car to spoil their new baby. The best bed, toys, food. When Blaire invited Ben, Vivian, Violet, and Ryder over to meet him (with Tate gone, of course), Violet made the remark that it looked like a cat lady lived in the house.

A year came and went in a flash. Blaire and Tate were busy with the store and Jasper. Ben had joined a partnership. Vivian began playing music again. Ryder turned one and kept his mom busier than ever. Violet found herself a new boyfriend.

Another year went by. The Harmon's moved into a new house a few blocks away from Vivian's sister. Blaire loved watching Ryder tumble around in the back yard with his father. Blaire and Tate had enough money in the bank to start house hunting, as Alex and Penny, of course. That's what led them to Arnold Street.

Lounging in bed on a Sunday morning with each other and their purring cat was the most normal thing Tate or Blaire could ever imagine.

It was weird- how two abnormal beings could manage to be so normal. Questions were beginning to be asked, not only from their neighbors, but from The Harmon family. For being 21 (as their fake IDs stated), why did they look so young? And how did they keep their youthful glow? Why weren't they engaged? Why weren't they married?

Blaire would have to sit down with her family soon and explain to them what was happening. After a few years she, Tate, and Jasper would have to move to a new part of town to avoid suspicion. Their lives would become clockwork.

But she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

For now, she was happy where she was.


End file.
